It Is My Patience
by khawarspirit
Summary: Kurt has waited a long time for Finn, and he will wait longer if he must. But sometimes, desire causes impulsive actions. - Kinn Slash. Some SamxKurt, too.
1. Exciting Displays

**First Glee fic.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of the characters mentioned in this fiction.  


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"My name is Kurt Hummel, and I'm here to try out for the role of Sky," I announced to the table set up in front of the stage behind which two men and a woman were comfortably seated. I didn't recognize the two men but I did know that the woman's name was Norah. She was a popular vocal coach here in Lima.

"All right, go ahead," she said to me and I proceeded to sing the chorus of 'Lay All Your Love on Me.'

They were going to put on a show of Mamma Mia! in a few theaters here in Ohio and auditions were being held in a few cities across the state. Lima wasn't the biggest city but the Regionals had attracted the attention of music big-shots since Olivia Newton-John had been called as a guest judge. The performances hadn't been disappointing either. So, of course, when Rachel found out that auditions were being held here, naturally, she wanted to audition for the role of Sophie, the female lead. She had also asked everyone from New Directions to try out for one role or another but we all knew that the musical didn't have many young characters so most of the club had decided to pass.

She had practically dragged me along, all the while flattering and insisting that I would be great for the role of Sky. I knew the truth, though; I knew that Jesse was going to try out for the role of the male lead, and she didn't want to play opposite him. Especially after the episode that took place in the school parking lot. As a person unlucky in love, myself, I knew how she felt, so I had sympathized and agreed to try out. A big chance like this, I knew, appealed a lot to her dreams of stardom. Of course, I had thought about it, and I wanted the role of Sky, because anyone with half a brain cell knew it really was a great chance for exposure; the musical was well known. But I had to face the facts; I very well knew that Jesse St. James of Vocal Adrenaline was an amazing singer and I also knew that I stood no chance for the role. That didn't keep me from trying.

When I finished, the judges seemed impressed and a few people sitting at the back of the hall clapped. I noticed that Rachel clapped the loudest.

"What voice type do you consider yourself to be?" asked one of the men.

"Oh, I'm a male soprano," I said proudly.

"A sopranist, huh… Impressive, but maybe not quite the type of sound we are looking for. You know range isn't everything. You don't have a very compelling stage presence," he said bluntly.

I was offended but didn't let it show. "Okay," I said and turned to walk off the stage.

"We will definitely keep you in mind, young man," said Norah.

I didn't reply to that and walked off slowly. I knew Rachel was going to be disappointed but her approval didn't mean much to me. I was quite upset by the fact that my stage presence had been insulted, and what's worse was I knew it was somewhat true. I hadn't been allowed any solo numbers in the whole time I'd been in New Directions and I hadn't developed the kind of stage confidence Rachel and Finn had.

Finn.

I didn't even want to think about what he'd say right now. He'd probably tell me not to worry about it or say something equally generic. I walked over to the back and sat down next to Rachel. She reached out her hand and pressed it over mine.

"It's all right," she said with a smile.

I thought it was strange that she was trying to be nice to me at such a time but I accepted her small gesture of kindness and tried to smile back. I felt worn out and wanted to go home, but I decided to stay until Rachel finished. As expected, she thoroughly impressed the panel with a version of "The Winner Takes It All" thought that wasn't a song for her character. They handed her the role of Sophie right there and she proudly walked off the stage. She came to where I was sitting and I stood up. She was so excited she gave me a hug and it was the first time she had done that, too. Today was turning out to be a day full of strange surprises from Rachel. I congratulated her and she informed me that she had no intention of staying and waiting for Jesse's audition. We left the building, the community theater, and walked across the parking lot and got into my car.

I wasn't in the talkative mood, not even for fashion, which, admittedly, was rare for me. So I decided to keep quiet and focus on driving. Rachel, on the other hand, looked about ready to burst with excited squeals following by plans and details, as it was common for her. I prayed she wouldn't start talking. Eventually, she did speak, but said something I was not expecting.

"Why do you love Finn?" she asked flatly.

I was caught off guard and decided to say the first thing that came to mind. "Why do you?"

"Not the answer I was looking for."

"And what gave you the idea that I had to answer to you at all?" I asked with as much venom as I could, but I knew why she was asking that. I had learned after the… incident with Finn during our Lady GaGa week that what I had for him were unrealistic expectations. He evidently loved Rachel and I didn't blame her for finding my past behavior hostile.

"We're dating, as you very well know," she said a little too proudly.

"Don't rub it in," I snapped. "You win, I lose. What more do you want?"

"I want, Kurt, for you to totally back off. Stop giving him those looks. And I want to make sure there is no funny business when I leave the city for however long it takes for the show," she said not a little threateningly.

"You know he'd never do anything. He…" I didn't know what to say and she knew better than to push me further.

She turned on the radio, and a song I didn't recognize was playing. We went quietly the rest of the way and in ten minutes reached her house. She got off without saying anything but waved to me when she was out. I didn't wave back, started the car again and drove off. I reached my house in a few minutes.

I noticed Finn's car was parked in the garage but my dad's car wasn't. My dad had let Finn move back in a few weeks after he'd kicked Finn out. Finn had apologized profusely and I had personally asked dad to give him another chance. We still shared a room but I'd given up on any kind of decoration after what happened and let Finn have his way. And a boyish, unorganized way it was. There wasn't much in the room now, just two beds, accompanying nightstands, a loveseat, a table in front of it, and my vanity. I entered the room and shook my head at its state. Our beds were in separate corners of the room and his side was messy with a few books on the floor lying on top of some dirty clothes. Finn himself was in the shower, I could hear water running and he was singing a song but wasn't very audible.

I loved the sound of his voice. It caused tingles in my chest.

I took off my shoes and socks and threw myself on the bed, hoping to catch a small nap before dinner.

There was a conviction in my brain that I loved Finn. I don't know how one can claim to be smitten with someone one doesn't know anything about. But that's stretching it too far; I knew Finn. I knew lots of things about his personality and about his life. But did it really explain my feelings? And is there really a defined threshold of knowledge? How much are we really supposed to know about someone to claim that we love them? I think one can love someone else without even knowing what their favourite color is. Love works in strange ways. We speak of it like it's an entity, instead of an emotion. This much is clear, though, it's the most valued emotion out of all. Phrases like, "I did it for love" are completely understood, but what if someone says, "I did it for the anger"? That wouldn't make an ounce of sense. No; love weighs above all other human emotions. Maybe because of the fact that it's the rarest of them all reinforces its value. The existence of 'true love' – which is just a perfect combination of Platonic love with sexual desire – is rare compared to 'true anger' and 'true happiness'. At least that's how I saw it...

I sat up in bed, hearing Finn sing and my eyes were fixed onto the door of the bathroom. It was as if I focused hard enough I'd actually be with him at that moment. I wondered how he looked right now. Naked, wet, beautiful… My eyelids felt heavy. It had been an exhausting day. I was half-asleep, slipping in an out of sleep like one does when one is falling asleep against one's will, but when I heard the bathroom door click open my eyes shot open. Finn slowly walked into the room, completely naked, drying his hair with a towel. The towel was covering his forehead and his eyes so he probably didn't even know I was here watching him. I was unbelievably turned on in seconds by the sight of his well-muscled body and an incredibly V-shaped torso. I turned my gaze a few inches down and appreciated the rest of his anatomy before he inevitably covered it up. My heart skipped a few beats when I processed what was really happening. There was a surge of excitement through my body and I could feel my pants tighten.

That was when he lowered the towel and saw me. He let out a started scream and on seeing this reaction I was shaken out of my fantasy and screamed as well. He immediately wrapped the towel around his waist. He opened his mouth to say something but didn't and I saw his face turn red.

Under different circumstances I would have laughed at his expression but I was pretty sure my face looked worse. All thoughts of sleep banished from my mind.

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**So, what do you think? Should I write some more? Review with your thoughts. :)**


	2. Tough On The Surface

**Thanks to all the people who reviewed. This is for you! :)  
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Finn stared at me for a whole minute and I'd have given anything to know what was going through his mind. He awkwardly walked over to his bed, grabbed a shirt and a pair of pants lying there and rushed back into the bathroom. He came out three minutes later fully dressed but didn't say a word. I could smell his body spray and it served to elevate the feeling in my nether regions. He went back to his bed and sat down on the side. I knew what he wanted to say. He wanted to complain. He wanted to tell me that I should have said something when he had walked out instead of just sitting there open-mouthed and enjoying the show. It was better he didn't say that, I thought, because I didn't have a reply. My throat felt dry all of a sudden. He gave me another look but instead of meeting his eye I pretended to be sleepy and closed my eyes. I wanted to save him the awkwardness as much as I wanted to avoid it myself. I heard him flip his phone open. Probably checking his text messages.

"Hey, Rachel got the part!" he said brightly, but I could feel the strain in his voice. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I bet that text was there before I got home," I said quietly. "I didn't want to ruin the surprise."

"You all right?" he asked, probably picking up on the gloom in my tone. Even when he was thinking about Rachel he managed to be perceptive about my mood. Finn had unexpected depth sometimes.

"I'm fine," I replied. I didn't want to tell him Rachel had threatened me plus I had gotten crap from Norah and company. "I just didn't land the part."

"Oh, dude, I'm so sorry," he said earnestly. "I know it would have been a great opportunity for you."

"It would have been a great opportunity for you, too," I said and looking him in the eye. "You didn't even try out."

"I know," he said slowly. "But I need to focus on what I do better. Sports. I really need the scholarship, Kurt, you know that. I can't waste any time this summer. I joined New Directions because I like to sing, not because I want a career in music."

"Yeah," I said, closing my eyes again. "I just thought you'd like a whole summer alone with your girlfriend."

"She'll be all right," he said, and I could hear it in his voice, he was smiling.

"She invited me over, I'm heading over there now," he told me. "I might be late, might not be in time for dinner. Don't wait up."

"Sure."

I could hear him pick up a few things. I heard the door open and close, and a minute later the sound of his car starting up. I sat up straight, opened my nightstand drawer and pulled out my iPod. I quickly made a playlist of my favorite Alanis Morissette songs, and soon I was mouthing the words along with the song. Alanis wasn't the kind of music I usually listened to but hers had been one of the first CDs I'd bought with my own money so I enjoyed her far more than I'd admit.

"If you're flawless, then you'll win my love," I sang along to _Perfect_.

Finn wasn't flawless. But I loved him. That was the simplest way to explain it. It wasn't Finn's intellect that attracted me, obviously, but it was character. That was easily explainable, too. He was a genuinely nice person, everybody knew that. And everybody seemed to get a kick out of taking advantage of his naïveté. Not like the façade that Quinn or Rachel put up, and on more than one occasion I wanted to tell him that he deserved much better than self-absorbed girls like them. However, since Finn had moved back in, some unspoken ground rules had been established. I wouldn't mention my feelings for him, and I wouldn't make it obvious either. And he wouldn't call me out when I gave him the occasional longing glance. He went out of his way to be nice to me now, and I tried to do the same. I knew he trusted me, he knew I wouldn't tell his private thoughts to anyone. He would about once a month talk to me about all the things troubling him, which usually involved Rachel, Quinn, Puck, Santana or a combination of the four. I had been devastated when I had learned that Finn had lost his virginity to Santana. He claimed he didn't enjoy it, and it didn't mean anything to him, but I knew better. A straight hormone-driven teenage boy who didn't enjoy sex without love? I'd much rather believe Artie was Satan. No; things like that simply do not happen. He might regret that his first time wasn't with Rachel or Quinn, but I knew he enjoyed the act of sex itself.

I knew he was sleeping with Rachel, and that made me want to claw her eyes out. Rachel wasn't my favorite person at school, but I respected her talent and all the hard work she did. It was too much to bear, seeing Finn holding hands with her at school, and making out at every chance they got. Especially when I'd done everything in my power to sabotage any chance they had of getting together. What's worse was, Quinn had ended it with Puck. In the hallway after her math class, for everyone to see. Points for dramatic effect, Quinn, I thought bitterly. I knew she gave Finn the occasional look. I also knew why she had broken up with Puck. He was too self-centered compared to sweet and caring Finn. Puck had been nice to me since he had joined New Directions, but he had an ego the size of the moon. I didn't blame Quinn for not putting up with him. Another piece of bad news was that Santana sent Finn the occasional 'sext' just to see if he'd do it back. He never did, but she kept doing every few days. Brittany had told me this when we had seen Finn turn red after going through his text messages. I hated those girls.

Bitches.

_Mary Jane_ started playing and I felt relaxed enough to fall asleep. I drifted off to dream land with the image of Finn's beautiful body in my mind. I felt like the image had been burned into my memory and I didn't mind. I could imagine every detail of his torso. His abs weren't too defined but his stomach was flat and firm. His pecs were absolutely mouth watering. His small pink nipples were along enough to get me hard. I imagined myself licking, touching, feeling, caressing, and rubbing every inch of his body. I hugged my pillow and got comfortable. I imagined running my hands along Finn's thighs up to his chest and teasing his nipples. It felt heavenly to imagine.

My last thought before falling asleep was how I wished Rachel wasn't doing those things to him right now.

I dreamt of performing with Beyoncé. Rachel was jealous. Quinn and Santana fought and killed each other over Finn. Rachel broke up with Finn to get married to Jesse and later moved to Europe. I had my prince all to myself. The last thing I dreamt of was Finn on top of me, blowing my mind.

When I woke up I giggled at the strange dream, the words 'impractical hopes and unwarranted self-importance' came to mind.

"What's funny?" I heard from across the room.

I shot up straight and turned to see who it was. Carole, Finn's mom. I gingerly smiled at her. I had grown fond of her in the last few months. It had taken some getting used to, having a mother figure around the house, but she loved my dad and my dad frequently reminded me of the fact that she loved me, too.

"Just a good dream," I said, blushing. "What're you doing here?"

"Just collecting some dirty laundry and putting away Finn's mess. This place looks like a war zone," she said with a smile. "I hope I didn't wake you."

"No, no," I said, shaking my head. "I was hungry."

"Okay," she said, thinking. "There is some food in the refrigerator you can warm up for yourself."

"I think I'll do that," I nodded in her direction. I headed over the bathroom to freshen up.

I washed my face and grabbed a fresh towel from a nearby cabinet. I took off the vest and changed from the white jeans and white tuxedo shirt into a soft gray t-shirt and trousers. Much better, I thought, and started making my way to kitchen. I glanced at a clock in the living room and saw that it was seven-thirty PM. Finn still wasn't home. I didn't want to think about how much fun Rachel was having with him.

There was spaghetti in the fridge left over from today's lunch and I decided to go with it. I usually didn't eat fattening food, and Carole had a habit of adding a little too much oil in everything she made. My dad wasn't home yet so she hadn't made anything for dinner. I didn't mind, though. Family dinners every night weren't my thing anyway. I heated it up in the microwave, and hurriedly made myself an avocado shake as an after-dinner drink. I loved those.

I realized I hadn't been very talkative lately. I only talked when someone talked to me, but didn't start a conversation. The glee club was fun because I loved to sing, and the songs meant something to me. But I didn't hang out with any of my friends after rehearsals and didn't take much interest in their conversations either. My dad was busy with his work these last few days and he hadn't noticed the change in my behavior. Carole, however, had noticed, and tried to make conversation every opportunity she had. I really appreciated her effort but I was tired of trying to get everyone to like me. Finn was the only person I had really tried appealing to, but he still thought of me as another guy who he happened to be living with. Sure, we were friends, and he occasionally voiced his thoughts to me, but there wasn't anything very special about that. I bet he talked about the same things with Puck, but repeated them to me just to get another opinion. I was trying to distance myself from them, so when they left me (everyone did, eventually) I wouldn't feel hurt. It was a stupid thing to do but right then I started crying. My tears fell off my cheeks and into the plate of spaghetti in front of me. I couldn't focus my thoughts and a part of my soul wished my mother was still here. If she wouldn't have left me, maybe I wouldn't be so afraid of being lonely.

Carole had been watching me from the kitchen door and soon as I let out my first sob, she rushed forward and pulled me into a hug. She didn't say a word, but she didn't have to. I knew that she knew what I was crying about. She was a very perceptive woman. She rubbed her hand on my back and I tried to stop crying. I decided to visit my mom's grave tomorrow.

I didn't know that at that moment my cell phone was ringing in my room.


	3. Not The Doctor

I quietly watched the ghostly wisps of steam rising from the coffee and wondered why life had to take such dramatic turns so suddenly. I was at the hospital, currently sitting in the small cafeteria. The tears had stopped flowing but I was in a state of shock. Finn Hudson, my own Finn, had been in a car accident. I couldn't wrap my head around it. I'm the kind of person who expects life to hurl the worst in my direction but this was painful on a whole other level. I knew Rachel was still upstairs in the room with him, and that was half of the reason I wasn't there. The other half was that I could not bear to see Finn unconscious with bruises on his arms and face, his left arm in a cast. Just two hours ago I was sitting with Carole in the kitchen. We had chatted for about an hour, talking about all kinds of things like studies, glee club, and music. She paid close attention to everything I said and I was always impressed at what a good conversationalist she was. She had pacified me well enough but then I walked to my room and saw the red indicator light of my BlackBerry blinking. I walked over, picked it up and saw that I had three voice mail messages. All of them were from my dad who had first called an hour ago to inform me that Finn had crashed his car into an electricity pole on the side of the road on his way back from Rachel's house. Turned out he had steered his car left when a drunk driver was coming at him and it had fallen off the road. The woman had driven away in a hurry and since it was nighttime, none of the onlookers had had a chance to see her number plate. The first emotion I felt after I hung up was shock and disbelief, which gave way to anger and loathing. I would wring that drunken woman's neck with my bare hands, and it was frightening how I felt such deep hatred about a person.

I been the most angry at myself for having left my phone unattended; I could have known about this an hour ago. But I had repressed my anger. My parents had not raised me to think about violence. Instead I had collected my thoughts, taken a few deep breaths and rushed out to give the news to Carole. I had wondered why dad hadn't called her directly but then remembered that she didn't carry a cell phone. To her credit, she hadn't broken down. However, tears had come to her eyes. She had asked me, her voice shaky, to take her to the hospital immediately. I changed my clothes hurriedly, she grabbed her purse and we practically flew over to the hospital and rushed to his room. My dad and Rachel had been sitting on both sides of his bed. Carole started crying as soon as he saw her son's unconscious form. Tears also flowed freely down my cheeks. Rachel looked like she had been crying but was very still and quiet now. My dad looked solemn. By the looks of Finn, he seemed to be pretty banged up, and the sight was enough to break my spirit. I was never as sensitive about other people as I was about Finn. I learned from the doctor when he came to check up on Finn that he had damaged some muscles of his left arm and the forearm bone had small fracture. He would need a few weeks of physiotherapy after the bone mended to rehabilitate the muscle. His neck had suffered some strain but would be all right with rest. They couldn't confirm a concussion until Finn woke up.

The coffee wasn't tasty but I had no intention of finishing the whole cup anyway. I felt like I could never eat again. I took my cell phone and texted the whole club about Finn's accident – well, almost the whole group. I didn't have Puck's, Matt's, Mike's and Mr. Schuester's phone numbers. Mercedes replied saying she'd come visit first thing in the morning. Artie and Tina were probably on a date but I got messages from both saying they'd visit on their way home. I didn't get a reply from Brittany. Santana said she'd be there in a few minutes. Quinn was the only one who actually called back.

"I hope this isn't some kind of a joke, Kurt," she said threateningly.

"Hello to you, too, Quinn," I said dryly.

"I'm not kidding around," she practically yelled.

I took a deep breath. "Yes, Quinn, he was in an accident but luckily, he'll be all right. The worst thing is that his arm will need some fixing up, there is a small fracture," I patiently explained.

"Oh, I see," she breathed and I could hear she was choking up.

"Aren't you going to visit him?"

"I'll come to the hospital tomorrow. I'm with my mom, visiting my aunt. I'm not in the city," she said with a hint of remorse.

"I see. Well, do drop by. He'll be happy to see you when he wakes up."

"Will do. Thanks for telling me, Kurt. Really."

"Don't mention it."

"Goodbye."

"'Bye."

I sincerely believed Quinn and I could have been good friends if she wasn't the bitchy head cheerleader and I wasn't the outcast gay kid.

Ah, well, I thought. C'est la vie. I put down the cup of bad coffee after taking another small sip, and got up to leave. I walked out of the café and into the lobby. Santana had just walked in and was talking hurriedly to the receptionist. I walked over to her and she hugged me with one arm. She was holding a bouquet with the other hand, and I vaguely wondered how she had gotten them at this time of night. As much as I wanted to distance myself from these people, now was not the time to be turning down small gestures of affection.

"Where is he?" she asked with a sense of urgency.

"Follow me," I said and took her upstairs to Finn's room.

My dad was sitting with Carole outside of Finn's room and he was hugging her close. Santana waved to both of them and we entered the room. Rachel had fallen asleep with her held resting on her folded arms on Finn's bed. I checked my watch to see that it was almost midnight. Santana walked over to the nightstand and put her bouquet on it since there was no vase to put the flowers in. She sat in the chair my dad was sitting in earlier and put her hand on Finn's. I watch quietly from near the door. She swallowed and her eyes looked sullen, I could tell that she was deeply concerned about Finn's health. She asked me about how he was and I told her the same thing I had told Quinn. She seemed to relax a little and asked me how long he'd be unconscious. I just shrugged. I didn't know. She stayed for about forty-five minutes but made little conversation. Then she got up to leave. She stumbled against the chair but hastily grabbed on to the bed to keep from falling. The noise woke Rachel up and she looked around groggily.

"Oh, hey, Santana," she said in a husky voice.

"Hey, Rache," she said and grabbed her purse. "I was just leaving."

Rachel nodded absently and Santana started walking towards the door. "Oh, and congrats on getting the role," she said turning around.

"I'm not too happy about that right now," said Rachel looking her in the eye.

"When are you leaving?" asked Santana but I could tell she didn't really care.

"In two days," she replied sadly. "I wish I had more time. I don't want to leave 'til Finn recovers."

"You could just, you know, not go," said Santana, rolling her eyes in that signature way of hers.

"I can't do that, and you know it!"

"All I know is, your career means more to you than your boyfriend, who would have given up everything to stay with you if you were in his position."

I was shocked to hear those words come from Santana. I knew she wasn't particularly gentle but this was a downright cruel thing to say in this situation. Maybe, I thought, this is the jealousy talking. Rachel, after all, had someone Santana couldn't have even when she put out for him. I wanted to laugh at the irony of it.

"I think you should leave, Santana," said Rachel in an uncharacteristically flat tone.

Santana rushed out the door and quickly walked through the corridor towards the elevator. I couldn't say anything, because I had no idea of how Rachel would react to anything. She seemed precariously close to crying and I knew not to push her further so I quietly went and sat down in the chair to the right of the bed. Finn hadn't moved at all. All the crying had made my eyes puffy and I had a headache. Not the piercing kind of pain, but a dull throb. I don't remember crying this much in a single night all my life. I so badly wanted to sleep for a few hours. Sleep the pain away. But I wanted to be awake in case Finn woke up. Rachel pulled out her phone and started doing something on it, I couldn't tell whether she was playing a game or going through her messages. Against my will, I fell asleep in a few minutes.

When I woke up, my neck was stiff and I was very uncomfortable. I wondered how people sleep in these situations but realized that they probably didn't. I felt bad for falling asleep when the guy I loved had been unconscious for hours. I looked up to see Rachel was _still_ there and it irritated me for no real reason. I realized she had as much a right to be here as I did. I just wanted myself to be the first person Finn saw when he woke up. Maybe that was an irrational desire but I was through making sense for the night. I pulled out my phone and looked at the time. It was almost two thirty A.M.. Rachel seemed exhausted and was still doing whatever it was on her phone, though every thirty seconds she lifted her gaze to Finn. She saw that I was awake and informed that Tina and Artie had come to visit when I was asleep, but they didn't want to wake me. Well, that explained the addition of a vase with flowers on the nightstand, next to the bouquet. I looked around the room and then the corridor but my dad wasn't there. I decided to call him. He picked up after five rings.

"Hello?" he said sleepily.

"Hey, dad. Did I wake you? Where are you?"

"I went home, Kurt. You were asleep," he answered, he sounded worn out. "I have work in the morning."

"I understand," I said sincerely. "What about Carole?"

"Oh, she's still at the hospital. I couldn't convince her to leave. She might be at the café if she's not in the room."

"Okay. Well, thanks dad. G'night."

"'Night, son. Take care."

I heard a delighted squeal from inside the room and rushed back in to see the happiest expression on Rachel's face I had ever seen and she was leaning towards him. Finn's eyes were open and he was looking towards me. Happiness hit me like lightening and I couldn't help but jump a little, though I was embarrassed about it afterwards. I ran over to his bed and hugged which he returned by putting his good arm around my shoulder. Rachel gave Finn a quick kiss and ran off to tell Carole. I didn't want to wake dad again, so I wrote a quick text _'Dad good news, finn woke up :)_' and sent it. I sat next to Finn and squeezed his hand affectionately. All my exhaustion wore off and gave way to pure joy.

"Hey," he said weakly. "Some water…"

I flushed at not thinking about that myself. How very rude of me. I jumped off the chair, grabbed a glass, and filled it with tap water. I realized he couldn't move his neck or sit up to drink it so I hurriedly rummaged the nightstand drawer which held small things that might come in handy for patients. I found some straws and put one in the class. Finn drank that water like it was the best thing he'd ever tasted. I smiled. That was when Carole and Rachel came back. Carole looked overjoyed to see her son smiling at her and rushed to give him a hug. He made a small noise of pain when his neck moved so she immediately let go of him and gave him a kiss on his forehead.

"How are you feeling?" she asked in the most motherly tone I'd ever seen her use.

"Sort of hungry," he said sheepishly and we couldn't help but laugh. There was never a time when Finn couldn't eat.

"I'll go get the doctor and ask the nurse to bring you some food," she said and walked out of the room.

"You guys look like hell," Finn remarked, looking at both of us.

"Have you looked in a mirror?" I said with a smile. He smiled back.

"Finn, I was worried sick about you," said Rachel, walking towards him. She's wasn't for one second happy not to be the center of attention.

They carried on their conversation with Rachel doing most of the talking and Finn giving one-word answers. She told him about the visitors, about his injuries, about how she'd rushed to his side and waited here 'til he woke up. He seemed very pleased with all the attention he was getting. It was endearing, however, in the same manner as everything else that Finn did was endearing. Carole came back with a doctor and announced that a nurse would bring Finn something to eat in a few minutes. The doctor proceeded to examine Finn's arm and then examined his eyes with a pocket flashlight. He asked Finn some silly questions like what his name was and what day of the week it was. Standard test for concussion, I assumed. Finn answered correctly. He asked Finn if he had a headache and Finn replied in the positive. The doctor told us that he had a minor concussion and that would pass with rest. He told him he'd give him some aspirin for the headache and left the room. A pretty red-haired nurse walked into the room at that moment with a tray of some soft food and a glass of water. There was also some medicine on the tray. She instructed him on when to take it, smiled, and then walked out.

It was a relief to get the confirmation that Finn was going to be all right. Carole advised me and Rachel to go home and rest up. We could visit the next day anyway so I didn't see a problem with that. I picked up my phone and decided it was the best time to push Rachel's buttons. I was in high spirits, and I wanted to mess around. I walked over to Finn, and looked Rachel dead in the eye. I softly hugged him, kissed his forehead and then backed off. I leaned in again and slowly moved my lips over his cheek, dangerously close to his lips, and kissed him there. Rachel was glaring daggers at me and she looked like she wanted to throw something, but she didn't. I felt absolutely giddy. I turned to look at Carole and she gave me a look somewhere between disbelief and amusement. I walked confidently out of the room, out of the hospital, and into my car. I didn't turn back to look whether Rachel came or not. I drove home slowly, enjoying the cool night air and counting the minutes to when Rachel would be gone and Finn wouldn't spend all day outside with her. Sound selfish? Sue me.

In my room, I took a quick shower and wore a pair of black trousers with a white t-shirt and got into bed. I fell asleep within minutes.

That night I dreamt of Finn making love to me on red silk sheets, my vision hazy. I looked around the heavily decorated room, mostly red, and then look straight up into Finn's loving eyes. It seems to last an eternity, I woke up when in my dream I had an orgasm.

But, sure enough, the orgasm had been real.

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	4. Feeling You, Feeling Me

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I woke up the next day around noon. I sat up in bed, stretched my arms and checked my phone for text messages or missed calls. Two texts. One was from Mercedes from around eight in the morning, which said, '_Visited finn wid brittany, n was hoping u'd be there. I'll call u later.'_ The other was from Finn which read _'thx 4 stayin with me last nite. :) im rly happy u guys did._' That made me grin like an idiot. Now that I felt refreshed, I decided it would be a much more pleasant visit. I took a quick shower and pulled on a colorfully striped polo shirt and white jeans. I turned on the straightening iron, combed my hair into the usual side-parted style, and straightened it a little. A cabinet in the kitchen held cereal, and I pulled a carton of milk out of the fridge. Tea was also a must. I decided to eat in the living room, and sat down on the couch in front of the TV. Desperate Housewives was on. I'd missed half the episode but I watched the rest anyway while devouring the cereal. I ended up having two and a half bowls.

I couldn't help but think about the events of yesterday. I wished that Finn hadn't left for Rachel's. I wished that he'd stayed with me. He would be in top shape, and no one would have had to worry or cry. Too much drama last night, I decided, drama that only looks good in the movies or on TV. I wondered if Rachel actually regretted something. Maybe she wished she hadn't called him over. Or maybe, more probably, she wished that she hadn't let him leave. I don't even know what I'd do if Finn actually spent the night at Rachel's place. I knew they had sex, but neither of them ever talked about it. If Finn spent the night with her, it would just enforce everyone's suspicions. I could go into a rant about how I was a better match for Finn than Quinn or Rachel, I could say that I had so much love for Finn, I could say that he was the person I wanted to grow old with, and I could say that life was unfair, life was unjust. But what would complaining about the situation accomplish? There was nothing to be gained from being desperate. So I'm biding my time, hoping for the moment when Finn realizes that I was always right here for him. He would see that I wouldn't sleep with his best friend, or break up with him for a guy from the rival team, or force him into sex.

I parked on the far end of the parking lot, and walked briskly towards the building. When I entered Finn's room, sure enough, Rachel was already there. She was sitting up on the bed with Finn with her head on his chest. Finn was wearing a sturdy-looking neck brace today and his arm was in a cast, same as yesterday. I smiled and waved to both of them. Rachel was in a great mood, and said 'hey' a little too enthusiastically.

"How you feelin', soldier?" I asked Finn playfully.

"Fine," he replied casually. "Even the headache's gone."

"That's wonderful," I said in my suggestive but innocent voice. It made him grin, so I got the desired result. "When are you getting out of here?"

"The doc said I'd recover at home just as well, so they might let me leave today, or maybe tomorrow," he said.

There was a knock on the door and Quinn poked her head inside and smiled. She walked in with a very large and expensive-looking bouquet and skipped over to Finn to give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek that lasted longer than it should have. Rachel looked displeased. She sat next to him on the bed and they exchanged the usual pleasantries. She had barely said three sentences when she turned to Rachel.

"Would you mind leaving us alone for a little while?" she asked very politely.

Rachel nodded quietly, and started towards the door. I followed. Outside in the corridor, she closed the door behind us.

"Take a little walk with me," Rachel said seriously and I couldn't think of a reason to say no. We started walking across the corridor.

"Listen, Rachel, is this about what I did last night?"

"No, Kurt. Although I didn't particularly enjoy that, I know that trying to keep you from doing it won't stop you, so I won't bother with nagging anymore. I know Finn, I know he won't betray me."

I thought the word 'betray' was a little dramatic. But then again, Rachel was the queen of drama queens. "Is that so?"

"Yes," she took a deep breath. "Finn isn't the most perceptive person in the world, Kurt. And you're very subtle. You don't have the confidence to say something to him outright. He probably doesn't even notice your little hints."

There it was again, a jab at my confidence. I didn't know what to say to that. "Okay."

"Kurt, why do you think I'm the bad guy here?" she asked, exasperated.

I honestly did not have an answer. The only reason I disliked her was because Finn liked her, and that wasn't very mature of me. I couldn't blame Finn for being straight, I couldn't blame him for liking her. She had tried too hard to get him after he ended his relationship with Quinn. As hard as I had tried. But in the end, she'd won. I knew that I, inevitably, would have to face the reality; that Finn was simply not into guys. Not into me. I sighed audibly.

We reached a wall, and turned to walk the other way.

"You don't know what it's like, Rachel," I said, my temper rising. "But I don't hate you, and I don't know what to say beyond that. Can you blame me for loving him? Can you?"

"And it's perfectly all right for you to blame me for getting jealous when you make your little moves?" she yelled out, but then took a few deep breaths. "There is nothing we can do to settle this, is there?"

"You could just sit back and let me have my try," I suggested, glaring at her.

"And you expect me to be comfortable with that?"

"No," I answered honestly. "You said you were confident that Finn would never cheat on you. Least of all with me. So you don't have anything to lose."

She thought it over but couldn't disagree. I could tell she was extremely uncomfortable with this conversation.

"Rachel, look," I said and closed my eyes. "It's not easy for me to see you hugging, holding hands, and making out with him right in front me. Don't you remember when he was with Quinn and she flaunted him in your face? Don't you remember how that hurt you?"

"But I-"

"Let me finish," I said more loudly than I should have. "He is no one's property. And the only way for me to get over him is to have my go at it, without you telling me not to. If I can't have him, I'll give up. If you continue it like this, he'll be the desirable forbidden fruit for me. You'll be gone for a few weeks anyway, and you don't have to see any of it."

"This is insane, Kurt! You're actually suggesting I gamble with the fidelity of my boyfriend. Do you have any idea how unreasonable that is? And how do you think he would react if he found out we were talking about you _winning his love_, like he has no choice of his own?"

"He will have a choice, Rachel. I won't impose anything on him. It will be his decision to make."

Her answer came after much thought. "Fine, have your attempt. I know for a fact that he won't cheat on me," she finished arrogantly.

"I appreciate it, Rachel," I said sincerely.

If I gave my best and still did not win his love, then I would simply get over him. There would be no more point in trying. I could tell that it took a lot of effort on Rachel's part to accept what I'd suggested. I was aware of how desperate I sounded, too. I was begging for someone who wasn't and probably wouldn't be mine. I wanted Finn with all my heart but I just as badly wanted to get over him if there was no chance of us being lovers. I probably wouldn't have even discussed this matter if I were in her place. I tried to think how I could show my gratitude, and decided to hug her. She was shocked and when I let go, she looked at me like I'd grown a second head. But I genuinely appreciated her open-mindedness to this matter.

I respected her a lot more after that conversation.

"Tell Finn I'll visit him in the evening," I told Rachel cheerfully and started making my way to the end of the corridor.

"Where you going?" she asked with intrigue.

She was possibly wondering what was more important to me than spending time with Finn.

"Something I gotta do," I called just before the elevator door closed.

It had been about two months since I had visited my mom's grave. The last time I came was when I was upset when we had lost the Regionals. Coming to her grave calmed me. It was sentimental of me, and the people who were used to my sassy and snappy side would be surprised at how serene I felt when I came here. Just to sit next to her grave and hum a song or two. Maybe voice my thoughts out loud, and laugh or cry out loud. It had been a long time since mom died. Ten years. It's a long period of time but I still remember her as she was. There was no chance I would feel any less for her, there was no chance I would ever forget about her. I had a habit of clinging to my emotions and to my memories. I couldn't let go of my mom in the same way I couldn't let go of Finn. It was simply not possible for me to give someone my love and then forget about them.

The cemetery was located on the outskirts of the city, and the far part of the graveyard merged with a forest. It was a quiet place; there was rarely any traffic on the road outside the cemetery. The sense of seclusion was relaxing. I parked my car near the gate, picked up the rose I'd bought from the dashboard, and locked the car up. Reaching my mom's grave took a few minutes; it wasn't near the entrance. It wasn't one of those new styled grid-like graveyards. There were graves in random arrangements. The area was grassy and there were lots of trees around but there was plenty of room to walk between the graves. I walked up my mom's and seated down on the grass next to it. There was a light summer breeze and the place was shaded by a tall tree. I was always comfortable when I sat here. I put the flower in the middle of the solid marble covering, kissed my hand, and placed it next to the rose. I pulled out my phone and turned it off, wanting nothing to disturb me for as long as I was here. I didn't say anything, but started humming the tune to _One Sweet Day_ by Mariah Carey. I thought it was fitting.

Usually I said something silly into the air when I was here. I would tell mom about my day, if I had nothing else to talk about. Pretending she could listen, pretending like she was here. But today I said nothing. I had a lot to think about. I was happy, but not terribly excited. It was an odd state of emotion, but full of contentment. I knew I had a chance now, but didn't know how likely I was to succeed, so I wasn't counting on anything. I did, however, decide it was a good time to plan things out. Obviously, I couldn't be too blunt in making moves. Finn wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed but he wasn't stupid. He would notice it if I was too upfront, and he didn't take too kindly to obvious displays of affection from me. I wouldn't get another chance like this, though, so I needed to play this to the best of my ability. Ideas came and went through my head; ideas on how I could maximize my spending time with him. Of course, I would accompany him to all the physiotherapy sessions for his arm. Maybe I could take him out for shopping or movies, since he wouldn't be able to drive by himself 'til his arm mended. He would be dependent on me for a while, and I had no intention of letting this opportunity go. Maybe I was thinking too much about this, or maybe I wasn't thinking it through enough. I had no one to guide me on this and Finn was my first crush to whom I had this much access.

Truth be told, I could have gotten over him in a few months anyway. I could have made peace with that but some part of me would probably regret for a long time that I hadn't given it my all.

"Mom, I wonder if you'd like him," I said lightly and continued to hum.

I always kept my journal in my bag. I couldn't leave it lying around the house out of fear that my dad, or now, Finn or Carole would read it. Of course, what deep, dark secrets could a sixteen year old boy's journal contain? But everything in it was my own. If I had wanted everyone to know, I would have written it on my forehead. It wasn't a diary to me. Instead of writing about my day, I wrote random thoughts. I picked up my bag from the backseat of the car and pulled it out. The cover was plain, brown leather held together by a spiral binding. I wasn't in the mood to write anything, so I flipped through the pages, looking over random entries I'd made over the last year. I stopped at one entry I had made about five months ago...

_People all over the world are connected by their actions. It sounds like a very comical hippy concept, but I have full belief in it. The truly stupid are the ones that don't learn from the mistakes of their predecessors, my dad told me. But I'd never looked at anyone else's experience. Learning has always been a big part of my life, but learning from the consequences of my own actions. But I had read somewhere that 'the proof that experience is of no use, is that the end of one love does not prevent us from beginning another.' Will Finn be one such experience? It seems like I'm obsessed with love, and I want to be 'somebody's somebody' very desperately. I'm not proud of that but I know I'm no good alone. I'm amazed at the people who don't seem to care for love. Yesterday, I bought a small pack of razor blades. I wanted to cut myself. To bleed the pain away, as dramatic and emo as that sounds. It reminded me of the time when I was twelve and caught a sparrow with a small trap I'd made with a cardboard box. I don't remember why I'd caught it but I do remember holding it in my hand and looking at it closely. Then I had used my other hand to break its neck. What was I thinking? I took a life. It was an animal's life, but it was a life, nonetheless! I conclude that I was a troubled little kid. But it takes a special kind of disgust in life for self-mutilation so, of course, I didn't cut myself. I threw the blades away. That was one learning experience for me. And _that_ is something I am proud of._

I closed the journal and looked out in front of me. I was in the car, still parked outside of the cemetery. I pulled out my phone and turned it on. The time was five P.M.. There was one voice mail message from Mercedes from an hour ago. I opened it and put the phone to my ear.

"Hey, Kurt. Where are you? First I didn't catch you at the hospital and now you've turned your phone off. Everything all right? Or are you ignoring me? I'm gonna assume you are if you don't call back. 'Bye."

I called her back.

"Hello, Mercedes," I tried to force myself to sound happy.

"Hey!"

"Sounds like you're in a good mood."

"I am. I'm at the mall right now with Tina and some of us from the club are gonna go to for pizza and then movies. You in?"

"I don't really feel like hanging out tonight."

"You sound like you need some cheering up. Even Rachel's coming, you know. It's actually for her. She's leaving tomorrow night for the first show in Cleveland."

"You guys have fun. I'll be with Finn," I said automatically.

"Okay, have your alone time with Finn," she said teasingly. Nothing could ruin her mood when she was happy enough.

"Thanks, Mercedes. Love you."

"Love ya, too. 'Bye."

I put the journal back in my bag, and started the car.

The ride to the hospital didn't take long and when I went up to Finn's room he was there alone. No Rachel, no Carole, no Quinn. No one to disturb the conversation I was thinking to make. I didn't want to waste any more time keeping things from Finn. I had to wait until Rachel left the city, though. And I didn't want to spring anything on him. I was thankful that Finn was alive and it had made me realize how unpredictable life is, how short it is to think everything through. Sometimes impulse was the best way to go.

His eyes were closed but I could tell that he was awake. I walked in and sat next to him. He opened his eyes.

"Kurt," he said with a smile. "Where were you?"

"Had to go clear my head," I replied softly.

"Hmm."

"So, Rachel's leaving tomorrow, huh."

"Yeah. Sure am gonna miss her."

"That makes one of us."

Finn chuckled.

I took his hand into mine, but I could tell from the expression on his face that he wasn't comfortable with that, so I let it go.

"You kissed me last night."

The abrupt statement made me cringe. "Yes."

"Was it to annoy Rachel?"

"Not entirely," I blushed and I could feel my heart going a mile a minute. "Did you like it?"

"Your lips are soft."

I don't remember blushing harder in my whole life. "That's the drugs talking, Finn."

"It's true," he smiled sweetly.

I held his hand again and this time he didn't show any sign of discomfort. I rubbed the side of his hand with my thumb.

"Don't tell anyone I said that," he said hastily. "Not even Mercedes."

I was taken aback by his need to hide. If Finn had one flaw, it was that he took what others said too seriously.

"I wish I could go home with you tonight," he said thoughtfully. "But Carole talked to the doctor and he said I had to stay until tomorrow. I miss our room."

I smiled at the longing in his voice. "What's another twelve hours? I can stay with you 'til then, if you want me to."

"Nah, it's okay," he said honestly, and part of me wished he'd insisted I stay.

"Fine, but I'll at least stay for a few hours."

"I'd really like that."

I decided not to flirt with him for the rest of the night. I didn't want to make him feel awkward. Finn was coming out of his shell to me and I wanted to make it easy for him. So, for the next two hours we talked about movies, music, the club, and made some plans for after his neck healed. I let Finn take the conversation in any direction he wanted. Finn couldn't play sports until his arm healed, which would take at least a month, which meant he wouldn't be seeing much of his friends from the school team. And Rachel wouldn't be taking up all his free time. There was lots of room in his schedule. I wanted to make the most of it.

It was the best conversation I'd ever had.

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	5. The Vulnerable Man

It was nighttime. I was sitting in a chair next to the window in my room, watching at the pouring rain outside, I was listening to Kelly Clarkson on my iPod. I could see heavy drops of rain drumming against the glass of the window but I didn't hear them. The songs were turned up full volume. The night outside of the window was like an abyss, not a person or object in sight. The darkness outside seemed to stretch on forever. The haunting melody of _Sober _had gotten me into a pensive state. The lyrics were appropriate. The drug in question, to me, was Finn. I'd been sober without him, but I was starting to lose my mind. There was something alluring about the dark tonight. It mesmerized me. I wanted to venture into it, to fade away inside it for as long as I could. To get away from the prying and judgmental eyes of the world. Electricity was out and I had lighted my scented candles on the table. The room smelled heavenly. There were scents of rose, soy and lavender. It was intoxicating. I decided that if I were ever to make love to Finn, I'd be sure to light some candles in the room. Finn was lying on his bed, evidently relaxed by the fragrance of the candles. He'd been discharged from the hospital this afternoon. Now, he was sleepy, probably under the effects of the medicine he'd taken an hour ago. I, on the other hand, didn't even feel tired so I was trying to kill some time.

I turned my head to look at Finn, and saw that he was saying something. To me. And waving his good arm to get my attention. I took out the earphones to listen.

"There's someone at the door," Finn practically screamed.

"Oh."

I got up and hurried out of the room, a candle in hand. I entered the living and saw my dad descending the stairs with a flashlight and rushing to the door. He opened it and there stood Rachel in a raincoat and rain shoes. She looked irritated. I simply thought she was insane, coming here in this weather.

"Rachel?" my dad asked, surprised.

"Hello, Mr. Hummel. I came to see Finn."

"Sure, come on in."

She walked in, took off the raincoat and hung it on the coat rack. Her shoes, she left on the side of the doormat and followed me to my room.

"Hey, Finn," she said loudly upon entering the room.

"Hey, babe," Finn said happily and I figured he was expecting her. He tried to sit up but couldn't because of the pain in his neck. I felt bad for him.

She went over to kiss him on the lips and sat next to him. Their hands found each other in seconds. I rolled my eyes and went back to sit in the chair. I put the earphones back in. I listened to the songs in full volume for a minute or two but then lowered the volume, curious to know what they were going to talk about.

"I'm gonna miss you so much," Finn said with a smile and she leaned in again to give him a long and passionate kiss. I clutched my iPod a little harder.

"It's just for a month. I'll be back before you know it. We can talk on the phone every day. And you'll be back in good shape when I get back so we can _really_ enjoy the last month of vacations," she said suggestively.

"I hope so. I wish we could enjoy some more before you left," Finn said flirtatiously.

"Oh, Finn Hudson," she started rubbing her hand on his chest and abdomen. "Whatever did you have in mind?"

They were clearly oblivious to the fact that I was both watching and listening. I took a few deep breaths.

"You know what I mean," Finn answered in the sexiest voice I'd ever heard. He wrapped his good arm around her waist.

She moved her hand to the fly of his pants, making him sigh audibly.

"Well, unfortunately, babe, I have to go now," she said unhappily, no doubt, at not being able to flaunt her shameless displays of sexual arousal in front of me. Finn looked unbelievably turned on. His eyes were glued to Rachel's breasts. I rolled my eyes.

What a _boy__**. **_

"When does the flight leave?" he asked.

"It was scheduled to leave in about an hour and a half, but it's probably gonna be delayed because of the weather. I just wanted to say goodbye before you fell asleep. I think the rain's slowed down now," she said, kissed Finn for the millionth time, and stood up. "Bye, babe. Kurt, would you mind showing me out?"

"Not at all. Come with me," I said, glad she was finally leaving. I put my iPod on the table, grabbed one of the candles from the table and walked out of the room. She followed.

We reached the door. She hurriedly pulled on her rain attire and opened the door.

"Goodbye, Kurt," she said loudly over the noise of the wind and rain outside. Sure enough, the rain was slowing down. It looked like she wanted to add something but turned and walked away. I didn't know if she had come in her car, but then again, I wondered, who would walk in this weather?

I went back into my room, and took a trip to the bathroom. When I came back out, Finn was asleep. Now there was _really_ nothing to do. I went over to Finn's bed and made sure he had everything available on his nightstand. There was a jug of water, a glass, his meds, and a few magazines. Good enough, I decided. I threw myself on my bed and had no choice but to do what I'd been doing endlessly: thinking.

The rain wasn't loud anymore. I couldn't hear the loud wind howling. But I knew the abyss was still there, just as it was still in my heart. I couldn't remember when I'd turned into such a serious person. When the cheerful and optimistic child had died and from his ashes had been born this selfish, lonely, and insecure boy with nothing on his mind except another boy. But all of these were excuses, and they were oh so familiar. I had been making them for as long as I could remember. Excuses for why I didn't want to play sports, excuses for why I didn't have a girlfriend. I had dug up this hell for myself, and it was involuntary. Sometimes I wished that I wasn't gay. Hell, it taken me years to even come to terms with it. So it wasn't fair of Finn to judge me based in what little he knew. I never chose to love him. And for a long time I couldn't deal with the harsh realities of life. I hadn't always had a hand to hold growing up. My dad hadn't known how to deal with a gay son. His approach was always strange. He didn't ever call me out on it but he did show signs of disapproval.

The smallest of actions sparked a debate in my mind. My mind wasn't relaxed. A tangle of thoughts. I didn't have a future figured out. I did want a career in music but I simply did not put in enough effort into it, unlike Rachel, who probably dreamt about winning Grammys. I wanted to get out of this small city, and I wanted to get somewhere I would be accepted and my art would be appreciated. My art, my singing, was the only thing that kept me sane. It was absolutely necessary for me. Finn, on the other hand, had his goals set. He gave his very best in sports. He wanted a sports scholarship to get through college. He was doing a lot of it for his mom, I knew that. There were holes in my personality. Holes that everyone could see, but no one talked about. I wasn't a difficult person to read.

How much longer 'til I tire out?

I could go on thinking about life, and possibilities forever. But that was the problem. Too much thinking. I wanted to, no, needed to do something reckless. I needed to stop being governed by the logic of what's right and what's wrong. I had to do something that seriously deviated from my personality. I needed to shock myself awake. Maybe then I would see myself and my life from a bird's eye view. Of course, I couldn't go into hardcore sports right off the bat, so the problem was figuring out what to do.

Then it hit me like a ton of bricks. Perfect.

I turned my head to look at Finn. His stomach rising and falling with every breath. He was deep into Slumberland. I felt goosebumps at the thought of what I was about to do. I put my thumbs under the waistband of my trousers and pushed it down to my knees. I took off my shirt and threw it on the floor. The thought of Finn waking up both excited and scared me. It was unlikely under the tranquilizing effect of the medicine but still possible. I stopped myself from thinking and rubbed my hand over my already semi-erect member. It began to harden and I felt a sense of adrenaline rushing over me. I had never done anything like this. The scent of the candles relaxed me further and my mind went into a realm of utter bliss. I stroked myself faster and felt my cock harden fully.

I had never had a more throbbing erection. For a second I considered vaseline or some other lubricant but I wanted to do it rough. I wanted to stroke myself raw. Visuals of my numerous wet dreams came to mind. Images of Finn naked, in my bed, panting with pleasure, sweaty, and on top of me. I moaned out loud, careless to whether anyone would hear. Precum oozed out and I could feel it running down the side of my hand. I gathered some up with a finger of my free hand and slowly rubbed it over the head of my cock. Then I used the hand to rub my testicles. Shocks of pleasure ran through my body and the urge to orgasm overwhelmed me. My free hand shot up to my nipples and I grazed a nail over them. My hips bucked off the bed and another loud moan escaped my lips. A few more seconds and my mind went blank. With a hoarse moan I shot loads of cum onto my stomach.

I had barely gotten time to catch my breath when the power came back on. The lights turned on and the ceiling fan loudly started spinning. I felt my heart stop when Finn stirred a little but went still again and started snoring. I sighed in relief. Looking down at myself, I saw that the cum had reached up to my chest. It formed a pool in belly button. I could help but blush and smile.

I ran to the bathroom to clean up.

This time I went back to my bed and fell asleep in minutes. I didn't dream.

* * *

I woke up to someone shaking me.

"Kurt, wake up, sweetie," I heard Carole call out.

"Hmm?" I tried to sit up and rubbed my eyes. "What's going on?"

"I have to go to the market to get some groceries. Your dad's already left for work."

"So?"

She looked at me like it was abvious what she wanted to say. "Well, could you make sure Finn gets something to eat when he wakes up? I have a dentist's appointment, too, so I'll be a little late."

"Oh. Sure."

"Thanks, Kurt," she smiled. "You're a sweetheart." She gave me a peck on the cheek and hurried out.

I snoozed for ten minutes before getting up, which was followed by my usual round of showering, dressing, and applying multiples products to my face and hair. My day just wasn't complete without it. The calendar told me that today marked the beginning of a whole Rachel-free month. This was too good. I fried myself two eggs, and made toast and tea. There was nothing interesting on TV so I ate my breakfast in the kitchen reading a local tabloid. There was an Emilie Autumn concert scheduled this weekend. I wasn't interested in going, though. Gothic music wasn't my thing. Mercedes wasn't a fan either. Tina would probably go.

Finn was awake when I went back into the room. He smiled at me. I sat down beside him on the bed, put his arm around my shoulder and helped him sit up. He quickly drank the glass of water I offered him.

"Thanks," he said and put his legs off the side of the bed, and tried to get up.

He had some trouble balancing himself with on the bed with one hand and fell against me. His weight was enough to push me back but I held my place well enough. I placed one arm on his back and one hand against his chest and kept him still.

"Sorry about that." He was embarrassed. How cute.

"It's okay. Let me help," I said and once again put his arm around my shoulder, and helped him stand up.

He let go of me and started walking towards the bathroom, not wanting any more help. I prayed he wouldn't trip over something. Finn had a tendency to get clumsy at the worst moments. Thankfully, he reached the door without falling.

"Need any help, Finn?"

"Dude, how can you help me pee?" he asked indignantly.

"Oh. Right." I didn't think it was even possible to be this embarrassed. "Are you hungry?"

He looked at the floor. I could tell that he regretted raising his voice when I was just trying to help. "I'll have some cereal." He said it softly, almost like a request.

I smiled. "Coming right up."

When I came back Finn was struggling with clothes. He was trying to pull off his polo shirt but the back of the collar was stuck in the neck brace and he was trying to get the sleeve off the cast.

It would be funny if it wasn't so pathetic.

I placed the tray of food on his bed and hurried over to him. I got the collar of the shirt out of the neck brace and slid the shirt forward over his head. Once that was done, the sleeve was easy enough to slide over the cast. I threw the shirt to the side, stepped back and looked at Finn's half-naked form in admiration.

Beautiful.

"Uhh... Thanks, dude," he said, embarrassed.

"Anytime."

"This is kinda weird to ask but... Could you... Uhh..."

"Spit it out, Finn, I don't have all day."

"... Help me change clothes?"

How could I even resist? "I think you're about halfway through."

"Those over there." He gestured to a dress shirt and a pair of jeans on his bed.

"Even the pants?"

"Yeah. I can take these off but I'd have to bend over to pull those on and I can't do that. Neck hurts."

"Oh," I said, trying to keep my voice flat. "Sure."

He unbuckled his belt, opened the button and the fly of his pants and used his feet to kick them off. I gazed at Finn in just his boxers for a few seconds but rushed to pick up the clothes lying on his bed to keep it from being weird. I stepped close to him and slid the sleeve of the shirt over his cast, and he quickly pushed his other arm through the other sleeve. I slowly buttoned the front of the shirt, going from bottom to top. He stepped into the jeans one leg at a time and I pulled them up. I stood back at that point. He expertly did the fly and button with one hand.

I just realized that I'd helped Finn dress and a shiver ran through me when I imagined doing the process in reverse.

"Thanks, man," he smiled appreciatively and went back to sit on his bed.

He ate the cereal and gulped down the coffee faster than I could believe.

The afternoon was lazy. There was nothing to do around the house and it was humid and hot outside, thanks to the rain outside. I'd turned on the air conditioner, although I knew it wasn't too good for my voice. Finn was bored but occupied on his phone. We had made little conversation after the events in the morning. Carole was back and she was making lunch. Dad would be home for lunch soon, too. I picked up my phone.

_'Are u free?' _I sent to Mercedes. The reply came almost immediately.

_'Yea, what up?'_

_'Wanna go to the mall?'_

_'Ive done shopping for the month.'_

_'But i need to talk to u.'_

_'Fine. When?'_

_'Meet me there in twenty minutes.'_

_'Ok.'_

"Hey, Finn, I'm going to the mall," I announced, standing up. "Do you want anything?"

He shook his head. I shrugged and pulled on a black pair of black Prada shoes to go with my black trousers and walked out of the room.

"Where you going, Kurt?" Carole asked from the kitchen. "Lunch's about ready."

"Eating out with Mercedes, thanks," I called back and left.

The drive to mall took about twenty-five minutes, and by the time I got there I was thoroughly irritated by the traffic and heat. Mercedes was waiting for me at the entrance. I gave her a hug and together we walked inside.

The mall wasn't huge, it only had two floors. But the shops were well-equipped to handle any kind of fashion emergency and kept up with the latest trends. It was like heaven for the fashion-conscious crowd of the town and I took pride in being part of that crowd. Mercedes and I always had a good time here. There was usually a lot to talk about between clothes and accessories and products. We went from shop to shop, mostly just window shopping but I did get two plaid Armani shirts that were in the "fresh styles" corner at one of my favourite shops, in addition to a bottle of moisturize. We went to the food court only after exploring every shop for new styles. I wasn't particularly hungry so I just ordered a vanilla milkshake for myself. Mercedes ordered coke (regular, not diet!) with burger and fries.

"So, Kurt, what did you wanna talk about?" she finally asked.

"Well, it's not so much talking as it is asking for suggestions," I said honestly.

"Suggestions about...?"

"About what I can do to get Finn to like me," I said quickly.

"What? Finn? Kurt, we've been over this a hundred times! You know-"

"It's not like that. Rachel's not here for a few weeks so..."

"So you thought you'd steal her boyfriend," she said bluntly.

"Hear me out. Rachel's letting me have my go. She's confident that he won't cheat on her. But I need this chance for..."

"For...?"

I took a sip of the milkshake. "...Closure."

"Doesn't make much sense to me, Kurt. And why are you asking me, anyway? I don't exactly have a bunch of guys fighting for my affection, do I?"

"You've dated a few! Look, I'm not ever sure what I'm asking for here, but I all I know is you're the only person I can trust enough to share this."

That made her smile. "So, let me guess, you're wondering how you can approach his romantic side?"

"Yes."

"I still don't think it's a good idea. And Finn's not in the best shape right now."

"I dressed him today."

She paused for a moment, and then grinned. "That's hardly sexual, but I can imagine why you'd like that."

"So what do I do?"

"You go slow. You have a month, Kurt, what's the rush? Just drop little hints here and there, touch him a little more. See how he reacts."

"And what if he doesn't like that?"

"Then you don't have to waste any more time over it. Just back off if he doesn't like it."

"You're right... I guess I was just afraid..."

"Afraid of what?"

"It'll just be another thing I'm gonna have to do alone..." I said thoughtfully.

Mercedes put her hand over mine. "You can always – and I mean always – talk to me."

"Thanks..."

She finished her fries in silence and I had a moment to think.

* * *

**Thoughts? Suggestions? Always appreciated! :]**


	6. The Thing About Love

The delicate scent of my perfume filled the room quickly and I knew I'd sprayed myself with too much. Finn gave me a strange look. That was good, though. It was a form of exaggeration and overstatements were the proper way to be individual these days. Theatricality was what got the point across, or at least that was what I believed. It didn't matter how absurd the exaggeration itself was. Every time a person went beyond the boundaries of the norm, he was noticed and I wanted to be noticed. Attention was the currency of my self-esteem. Maybe that, in some way, enforced the gay stereotype; that all homosexuals were flashy and ostentatious. But that was like saying all animals were dogs. I was more than a 'shallow, flamboyant queen'. I was deeper. I understood people, I respected human emotions and I did not just love people for their outer beauty or fashion sense. There was more to me than that.

"Are you going somewhere?" Finn asked.

"No."

"Then why are you so dressed up?"

"As I told Mercedes once: every moment of your life is an opportunity for fashion."

"I see."

It had been ten days since the accident. Finn's neck was better now and he'd taken off the neck brace. His arm was still in a cast. I assumed it would be at least another week 'til he'd lose the cast, and then the physiotherapy sessions would start.

Finn's phone rang, and he answered it before the second bell. Rachel, no doubt. I turned my laptop, and after checking my emails, I decided to download some music. A few minutes later Finn started yelling over the phone.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he screamed and then paused for a whole minute. "I don't believe this!... You're not making any sense! Kurt has been nothing but helpful while you while too busy putting on shows."

I was happy that Finn defended me against whatever she'd said. A few seconds later he lowered his phone. Rachel had hung up on him.

I looked up from the screen with a raised eyebrow. Finn was angry. His face was red and he hurled the magazine lying on his bed across the room.

"What's wrong?" I asked cautiously.

"Rachel broke up with me," he said it like he still couldn't believe it. "She's back together with Jesse!"

The way he was radiating anger made me nervous. "How did that happen?"

"She said that Jesse might be getting a record deal and she's accompanying him to Nashville to record a demo. She won't be back for the rest of the summer."

"Okay, please calm down…"

"I can't believe she broke up with me over the fucking phone!"

Finn only rarely used the f-word. This was serious. I mentally smacked myself. _Of course_ it was serious.

"She was saying everything so…" he had to think about the word. "…mechanically! It was like she didn't even care how badly this would affect me. And she was being all weird about you."

"You mean more than usual?"

"Ha-ha," he mock laughed. "She said you still wanted to be with me."

I didn't believe Rachel had said it so nicely, I was sure she'd used her fair share of the f-word, too. Finn was obviously sugar-coating it.

"And you believed her?"

"Of course not, man," he said and ran his hand through his hair. "You've been so helpful… I… Don't know what to think anymore."

"Just take a little while to think, Finn." Knowing him, this was about as much as he'd open up. At least for now.

What could I say to comfort him? Everyone had these lonely moments, when you just couldn't find your way through the cold and dark labyrinths in your mind. He was looking for answers when there were none. There are some things one just can't control. In the end we were all just spectators of life. The choices and options we have are only to a certain limit, after which things are simply pre-destined by a higher power. At least that was I believed. But pre-determined or by choice, break-ups were never easy.

The religious scriptures, like the Bible and the Quran had embedded into peoples' mind that patience was the right way. The Holy Books, all beautifully versed, told us to be steadfast in the face of trouble and doubt. That was what I had been doing, but all the while I watched myself hide away, retracting into a shell of isolation. When uncertainty came, we were advised to hold on, to cling to something strong until the confusion passed away. But what if there was nothing to hold on to? What if the storm had taken with it all of your rocks and anchors, and you had driven away the rest? A certain kind of insanity builds up inside you when you're alone like that. You can't help scream out like a man in a straitjacket locked in a padded white room. The silence, it pulls on your sanity. Maybe that's how the 'silent treatments' came into being, and maybe that's why they're so disturbing.

I decided to remain quiet and let Finn sort his thoughts out.

* * *

It had been three hours since Finn had gotten the call from Rachel. He'd been in the bed the whole time, and the only move he'd made since then was pouring himself two glasses of water. I couldn't understand why he'd been so quiet. It wasn't like he was alone in the world. He had me, his mom, his friends from school. But then again, I didn't understand how relationships worked. Maybe Rachel would run back to him like she did when Jesse screwed her over the first time. But it was likely that Finn didn't want to get back together with her, anyway. I could imagine this as the perfect opportunity to swoop in and be the shoulder to cry on, but I couldn't bring myself to take advantage of his feelings like that. I wanted him to open up to me at his own pace.

I tried to put thoughts of Finn in a corner of my head. I couldn't make any decisions on what to do until I knew what he had decided. He could always go back to Santana for a little rebound sex. Even though she claimed to be dating Noah, anyone with a shred of common sense could see that Puck was only in it for the action. He didn't _do_ relationships. But Finn didn't look overly distraught. Of course, I could tell he was hurt, but he took it easier than I expected he would.

I stared at the white pages of _The Bell Jar_ in front of me but I couldn't make sense of the words. I was going through the pages but I hadn't been following the plot for the last ten pages or so. It was like staring at unknown etchings on the wall of The Pyramids or some ancient runes found in the ruins of Mohenjo-daro. Or perhaps that was a bit of an overstatement. I could understand the words, but I didn't feel the literature like I usually did. The book didn't take me on the journey of the protagonist, like all well-written books do, and it wasn't Sylvia Plath's fault. My emotions were mixed; I felt sorry for Finn, who fell for a girl who only liked him as an item, as an ornament or a piece of good-looking jewelry to adorn her vanity. I felt angry at Rachel. I took a deep breath and flipped back a few pages, trying to start again. It didn't help. I was about to give up reading it completely when Finn spoke.

"You know, dude," he said pensively. "I really thought she was the one. I really liked her."

I looked up from the book and waited for him to say more. He was staring at the ceiling.

"I can't get my mind off her," he said and sat up.

"Listen, Finn, I can imagine what you must be feeling, but-"

"No," he said loudly. "You _can't_ imagine what I feel. You've never been in a relationship much less a break-up!"

Okay, that one stung. Why did he lose his temper so easily? I tried to go back to my book.

"Okay, I'm sorry," he said apologetically. "I shouldn't have said that."

"Don't be sorry, it's true," I said without looking up.

"Please, just look at me."

I did.

"You're the only one I can talk to about this, Kurt. Even Puck wouldn't care. He doesn't understand relationships, he just likes sex."

I could sympathize with that. "All right, so talk."

"It hurts, man, it really does, but there isn't a lot of shock involved. It was like some part of me was prepared to deal with it. But I am kinda confused, man. What do I do now?"

"I can't answer that, Finn. You need to answer to yourself. Do you still want to be with her?"

"I do, but... This is the second time she's broken up with me for Jesse."

"It's her loss, Finn. You need to stop thinking about her."

"How? Help me with that."

"Honestly, Finn, I have no idea what one does in these situations."

"You know, I really wonder how gay people have it..."

_Gay people. _"They cheat too," I said. "But I don't speak from experience."

"And sex with Rachel was incredible," he said as if it were something I should know.

"I'm sure it was..." I said and rolled my eyes.

"I was her first, you know," he said with a hint of pride in his voice.

I winced. "Why are we talking about sex now?"

"I need to talk about something other than how much I'm gonna miss her."

"Whatever floats your boat, Finn, but does talking about sex with _her_ really going to help?"

"Can I ask you a question?" he said, uneasily, after a few seconds of thought. I nodded. "If you were with a guy, would you... Uhh... Give the present, or receive it?"

I didn't understand what he was talking about right away. He stared at me and I realized what he was asking.

"Are you asking me if I'm a top or a bottom?" I asked bluntly.

Finn turned his head to the side and looked deeply embarrassed.

I stifled a laugh. "Finn, it's all right to be curious once in a while. I'm not judging you."

He slowly turned to look at me again, in that adorable manner of his, he was both making and avoiding eye contact.

"I don't know, Finn, I never thought much about it. I would bottom, I guess. Tops are... Well, they are different. You can point out a top just by looking at him," I said all of this with a strange confidence, without hesitation. It surprised me.

"And how does one look?"

"He... Uhh... A top looks like... Well, you."

He turned his head to the side again, and said a small "oh."

"Sorry, didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. It was the simplest way to explain it."

There was a pause in the conversation. An awkward pause. I thought he was done talking but suddenly said. "I understand. So when do you plan to do it?"

"Do what?" I gave him a look.

"Have sex, duh," he said with a little smile and I knew I'd taken his mind off of Rachel, at least for a little while.

"When I get to do it with the right person," I said automatically.

"Have your eye on someone?" he asked coyly.

"Maybe," now it was my turn to be uncomfortable.

"He'd be a lucky guy. Thanks for listening, Kurt. You're a great guy," he said sincerely, making me blush a fierce red.

"Don't mention it," I said. It was how I always responded when someone thanked me.

"Give me a hug?"

"What?" I thought I'd misheard him.

He gave me a strange look. "Never mind."

"No, I'm sorry," I said hurriedly. "I was just distracted. I heard you."

This was really out of character for him. Finn Hudson would never be so upfront about something like this with me. He was either growing up or he was probably asking me as his _dude_ or _buddy_. I wasn't going to pass up a chance to hug him, at any rate. I walked over to his bed, sat next to him, and put one arm around his neck the other around his back. I closed my eyes. I felt him take a deep breath, and I could imagine why. I smelt nice with the perfume and the strawberry scented shampoo. It was probably a little intimate to hug him with both arms instead of the one-armed 'dude-hugs' but right then, I didn't care. Neither did Finn, apparently, because he wrapped his good arm around my shoulder, and pressed me against his chest. I didn't find the gesture erotic, at all. It was completely friendly, comfortable, and... well, it felt nice. It was surprising how well I fit into his bulky chest. His arm covered the back of my shoulders. He whispered a small "thanks" and I whispered back a "don't mention it."

Perfect end to a not-so-perfect day.

Oh, well. All's well that ends well, isn't it?

* * *

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	7. Against All Odds

I liked to think that I was like a bottle with a hole along the bottom when it came to love. No matter how much love and emotion someone poured into my heart, I couldn't be satisfied. Or so I believed. But at the same time, the road to my heart was narrow, bumpy and unwelcoming, as odd of an analogy as that is. So what made Finn Hudson so special? He was the boy who had, with his rude friends, tormented me for nearly a year in school. In our school the 'different' kids were like misplaced birds in a building full of hunters. That was how I'd felt around Finn and his friends; like a target. I was like fragile animal who tries his best to survive; a desperate existence, but one which possesses a good-natured heart. It exists, all the while hoping that the beauty and harmlessness would strike a chord of sympathy in the hunter's heart. But that was unlikely. Yet I knew Finn had been sympathetic all along. Maybe I knew the answer to why Finn was so special. It was his voice, his talent, that reverberated in the hollow chambers of my soul, and somewhere in that time, that voice had found a way into my heart. The whole thought was oddly romantic to me.

A second is all it takes for a thought to come and pass your mind. But what are thoughts? They are simply traveling electrons through the brain, and that is all the physical significance thoughts have if they aren't expressed in writing or speech. I could go on thinking about Finn and his love all my life but it wouldn't make a shred of difference if I didn't convey it.

Which again took me to the debate on his sexual orientation. It is unfair to the regular American heterosexual male, is it not, to have a whole world of experiences closed off to him? They couldn't be sensitive, fashion conscious, and they couldn't find another guy attractive. I bet if I asked Finn if he thought a guy, like Puck, was good-looking, he would answer something silly, like, "Ew, dude, I don't know!"… I found plenty of girls beautiful, but that didn't make me a tad less gay. But recently, I'd seen a good development in Finn's behavior. It had been a week since his break-up with Rachel, and he didn't mention her anymore. Plus, he was being incredibly thoughtful and nice towards me. Yesterday I'd been shocked when he had complimented my appearance and clothes. So today I was taking extra care to look my best, hoping to draw out another compliment from my roommate.

I stared at myself in the mirror of my dressing table. It was a habit for me to sit here inspecting every inch of my face to see that everything was in order. I made a mental to get a haircut this week. I was humming to myself while putting the finishing touches on my hair. I turned off the straightening iron and generously applied hair spray. A scrutinizing look into the mirror confirmed that everything was ideal. For a few seconds I grimaced when I thought over how vanity was the be-all, end-all of my day, and even of my life. I didn't suffer from the Dorian Gray syndrome or anything, but I did obsess with my looks. There was a certain kind of madness affiliated with my need to dress perfectly. I wouldn't be comfortable being the jeans-and-t-shirt-guy.

"What song is that?" Finn asked curiously. He was seated on the couch, and doing something on my laptop. He had gone to the doctor the day before, and he didn't have his cast now. The bone had healed. He had the first physiotherapy appointment today.

"What do you mean?" I was puzzled. I could see him in the mirror of my dressing table.

"The one you were humming."

"Oh, that." I had been humming subconsciously. Strange that Finn had been paying attention at all. "It's 'If I Ain't Got You'. By Alicia Keys."

"I haven't heard it before… Sing it for me?"

"I can't believe you haven't heard it! I'm not a huge Soul fan but it was everywhere when it came out!" I said before I realized what he had just asked of me. I flushed. "What, sing it now?"

"You don't _have_ to if you don't want to."

"I want to," I said suddenly. "Uhh…" I felt like I should add something to that, but I lost the words.

I got up from the chair, and walked over to the couch to sit with Finn. He closed the lid of the laptop and looked at me attentively. Usually I admired that Finn gave people his undivided attention, but at that moment I was nervous under his watchful stare. I chose to sing only the parts I liked best, instead of the whole song. If I sang the whole thing, I thought, it would seem drawn out. And with the context of the song, I wanted to make an impression with as little as possible. I took a deep breath and started:

_"Some people live for the fortune,  
Some people live just for the fame,  
Some people live for the power,  
Some people live just to play the game."_

Finn looked surprised. As if he had expected something else or maybe he hadn't expected me to sing it like this. Whatever it was he was thinking, he was looking at me with a combination of surprise and admiration. He held my gaze, and I stared into the dark brown of his eyes. I uncertainly decided to continue, although my heartbeat was speeding up.

_"Hand me the world on a silver platter,  
And what good would it be?  
With no one to share,  
With no one who truly cares for me?"_

It was strange. I couldn't stop singing, I didn't want to. Finn was looking at me intently. I leaned a little towards him. Our lips were about a foot apart and I very badly wanted to close the distance. English was the language of the poets, was it not? It was a magical kind of instant. I was affecting him with my voice, my love and the beauty of the words. It was an enchanting kind of opportunity. An opportunity into his heart, I decided. There was nothing I wanted more right then than for this moment to prolong. I didn't stop.

_"Some people want it all,  
But I don't want nothing at all,  
If it ain't you, baby,  
If I ain't got you, baby."_

I sang the last note conclusively, with a few vocal runs. For a few seconds neither of us spoke, and I didn't move my face from where it was; inches within Finn's. He had a soft look in his eyes and staring into them so close up was mesmerizing. I broke the eye contact, with difficulty, and let my gaze wander across his face. The thin, soft-looking, pink lips were set in a little smile. I didn't know what else to do besides sing some more, so I took a breath and was about to sing when he raised his hand and put a finger on my parted lips. I felt myself freeze.

"That was beautiful, Kurt," he said, and I realized this was the first time I'd heard him use that word. "You're a great singer."

"Uhm… Thanks." I felt like I couldn't string together a coherent sentence under his intense stare.

His finger slid off my lips and I couldn't help but lick them. His hand remained suspended in front of him, between us. I pressed the palm of my hand against his and he folded his fingers around my hand.

"Did you mean what you sang?" he asked huskily.

The moment couldn't have felt more unreal to me. "Every single word."

"Can I kiss you?"

"You don't have to ask."

But Finn didn't move. I didn't want him to hesitate now. The moment was perfect. The surreal perfection of the occasion was overwhelming. I felt like there couldn't be a better time or place for this to be happening. The eye-contact, the gentle touch, the captivating aesthetic charm of the moment… But why wasn't he making his move? Was he having second thoughts? I didn't want him to change his mind, but I was afraid. Afraid that he would throw me off and get angry, because it didn't take a lot for Finn to lose his cool…

I thought that…

No. No more thinking, and no more fear. Be impulsive, Kurt, I told myself.

And then I leaned in and closed the little distance between our lips.

It was my first kiss, and for a few seconds I couldn't believe Finn hadn't thrown me off, all the while yelling a string of profanities. I hadn't been expecting him to kiss back. It seemed too good to be true, but there I was, holding Finn's hand, and pressing my lips against his. Finn's eyes were closed and I closed mine. Neither of us moved at first but then Finn opened his lips and closed them again. I kissed him repeatedly, and then opened my mouth to let his tongue inside. As soon as his tongue touched mine, I shivered. Finn let go of my hand, put it on my chest, and firmly pushed me back on the couch without breaking the kiss. His other arm, sans cast, hung by the side of the couch.

He was heavy, and I wanted to break the kiss and object that we should flip over. That thought faded into oblivion as soon as Finn ground his crotch against mine. I moaned into his mouth he his hearty chuckle resonated in my throat. I put both my hands on his cheeks, then slid them back, by his neck and rubbed them on his back. Finn was energetic, that much was obvious, with the way he was grinding against me, and he had evidently overcome his problem of... premature ejaculations, probably thanks to Rachel. He ran a hand through my hair and my breathing sped up. It seemed like I was the one who would orgasm quickly if he kept pressing into me like that. Oh, God, I thought, please don't stop. Just when I thought he was going to further...

There was knock on the door. Finn and I snapped awake from the lustful spell we were under and he jumped from the couch in alarm. His face was flushed red. I groaned in irritation and instinctively shot my hands up to my head and ran my fingers through my hair, making it presentable. Finn straightened his shirt and rushed to open the door.

"Wait!" I whispered rather loudly, and quickly sat up. "Okay."

Finn opened the door as casually as he could and there stood Carole, in her usually cheerful mood.

"What took you so long, Finn?" she asked and smiled. She looked at me and her brows knitted in curiosity. "You all right, Kurt? You look stunned. Come to think of it, Finn, you look a little red, too."

"It's nothing, mom, we were just watching this video on the computer," Finn said throatily. I was surprised that he'd pulled that excuse out of nowhere.

She looked convinced. "Oh. Well, anyway, ready to go to the doctor's, Finn?"

"What? Now?" Finn asked in tone that clearly stated that that was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Yes, now. The appointment is at six, and it's already five-thirty."

"I can take him," I offered.

"Oh, you don't have to bother, Kurt," she said with a smile. "I am going that way, anyway, to the tailor's, which is very close to the doctor's clinic."

I couldn't argue with that, and I had a lot to think about, anyway. So I nodded. She turned to leave and Finn followed her after giving me an apologetic look. I smiled at him and blew him a kiss. He grinned and closed the door behind him.

* * *

Two long hours since Finn had left. Two long, lonely, hours full of discomfort. My paranoia was acting up. Maybe he would realize the consequences of what we'd done, or maybe he'd find it disgusting. It was frightening. After all, Finn wasn't gay. It had been a thing of the moment, an impulse. And maybe that's all it would be for him, instead of something special like I felt. But now I had something special; something practical to add to my mental collection of numerous dreams, moments, and fantasies about Finn. I went through the whole scenario again and again in my mind. I closed my eyes and imagined running my hands over Finn's back, feeling the firm muscles under the thin fabric of his cotton dress shirt.

The loud ringtone of my BlackBerry snapped me out of my reverie. I received the call without checking the ID. I simply did not care.

"Hello?"

"Kurt, hey," came my dad's voice. "Are you at home?"

"Yes, I am."

"You all right?" he asked with concern. "You sound kinda... uhh... distant."

I sat up straight and cleared my throat. "It's nothing dad, I'm all right. Are you still at the workshop?"

"Yeah, just winding up some extra work today. I need a little favour," he said distractedly. I could hear the creaking of wrenches in the background.

"Sure, what is it?"

"I need you to bring me a part I forgot at home today. I just opened up the car I need it for."

"Okay... Which part is it?" I said, but then realized I wouldn't know what it was by name alone.

"It's a crankshaft."

"A what?" I had never heard of that thing before.

"It's, uhh..." he thought of how he could explain it simply. "It's gonna be some odd-shaped half-discs on a shaft. You'll find it on the top shelf of my tool cabinet in the garage."

"Okay, I'll bring it over."

"Thanks, son. 'Bye."

I didn't want to sit around for another minute thinking about possibilities so I got up and went over to the mirror to give my appearance a once-over. Good enough, I decided, and pulled on a red and black vest over my white dress shirt, a wrist watch, and shoes, and hurried over to the garage. The part was easy enough to find. I repeated its name a few times for future reference as I walked over to my dad's workshop. It wasn't far from home, about ten minutes of walking. I didn't take my car because I figured I could ride back home with my dad. I wanted to spend some time with him, and I had nothing to do at home anyway.

He was glad to see me when I arrived.

"Hey, thanks, buddy," he said happily when I handed him a part.

"Don't mention it," I said smiling back.

He went over to the car suspended by car jacks and started opening something in its engine. I quietly seated myself in one of the chairs in the corner of the room.

"So, I haven't been seeing much of you these days, Kurt," he said casually. "You're always either locked up in your room or out shopping."

"Yeah, I'm sorry dad," I said sincerely. "Maybe we should have a family dinner this weekend."

He smiled at the word 'family'. I'd meant it, though. Carole and Finn were family to me now.

"That sounds good," he said gladly and proceeded to take some parts out of the car and put them on a table.

There was a long pause, neither of us spoke. He was busy with his work and I was too nervous to say anything. I wanted to tell him very badly. I wanted to see how he'd react.

"You all right, Kurt?"

"Yeah, I'm just tired..." I replied slowly.

I was surprised when he laughed in response. "Oh, come on, Kurt. Do you really think I buy the 'tired' excuse anymore? You always say then when you have something on your mind that you don't wanna tell me."

I sighed. "I want to tell you dad... But..."

"But?"

"Dad, I like Finn."

He stared at me for a few seconds and then quietly went back to work. Dad almost never went quiet like that. He always had something to offer, even if it was a little disapproval. I could tell he wasn't expecting this. He wasn't expecting something out of the 'gay side' of my life. I was frightened. What if he didn't approve? But he did speak a full minute later.

"Finn, huh? Since when?" he asked flatly. There was no inflection in his voice. I couldn't tell if he was angry.

"It's been a long time."

"He's not... Into guys like that, Kurt. I think you know that very well."

"Why do you think, dad, that I haven't made a move all this time?"

He paused. "I imagine that doesn't feel too good, him living with you and all?"

He understood it better than I had imagined he would. "It doesn't…"

He didn't say any more. He seemed to be finished with installing the part I brought over, the _crankshaft_, and was putting back the parts laid down on the table.

"Kurt, this is the first time you've honestly talked to me about something like this. Not like the time you were lying to me by bringing that blonde cheerleader, what's her name, home."

"Brittany…"

"Yeah, her. I don't know too much about how this works, Kurt, but… Last time I said I wasn't ready for this kinda conversation. That was wrong of me. So I'm gonna ask you: do you feel strongly about him?"

"Yes. I think I love him."

He sighed, stopped working and turned to look at me. "Okay. But if he can't return the feelings then don't waste your time."

I knew this already, but hearing it from him, oddly, made me feel comfortable. It was a kind of assurance that, in the worst case, letting go of him would be the best choice.

"Would you approve if he did like me back?"

"Listen, Kurt, you're not a kid anymore, and neither is Finn. I won't interfere in your love life. If you are Finn's choice then who am I to say otherwise?" he said before going back to work.

"Thanks, dad. That's all I wanted to hear from you," I said earnestly.

He smiled.

I was glad that he had given me his permission and it meant a lot to me. I didn't want to tell him about the kiss because that would just alienate him. He was trying hard to relate and I didn't want to give him any news that would make this difficult for him. Besides, if I had told him about the kiss, he would have told Carole soon as we reached home. And nothing with Finn was final, so he wouldn't take it too well if he found out that Carole knew. Twenty minutes later my dad had finished putting together the engine attaching the wheels of the car. He lowered it from the jacks, and started putting away his tools. I watched him go from one end of the shop to another. I admired his work ethic, and I respected his expertise. Although fixing cars wasn't the career of choice for me, Dad was very good at it, and he obviously put a lot of effort into it.

A few minutes later he was done and gestured me to head outside so he could close up. We seated ourselves in his car, and I turned on the radio. The ride to home only took a few minutes.

But I had a smile on my face the whole time.

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**:] Thoughts? Suggestions? Criticisms? **


	8. Limbo No More

**Here is a conversation-heavy chapter. I wanted to clear up some feelings on Finn's part. Enjoy. :]  
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Dad and I didn't talk on the ride home, but it wasn't an awkward kind of silence. It was a comfortable pause when you know the talking has been done, and you take a little time to think. When Dad pulled the car into the driveway, I saw that Finn's car was parked outside, too. They were home. My heart started beating faster. What was it going to be like talking to him now? It would probably be awkward, but I could be wrong. Maybe he wouldn't want to kiss me again, or maybe he would simply pretend like nothing had happened. I wasn't sure which would hurt more. Obviously, dad didn't notice my nervous state.

He grabbed a bag from the backseat and climbed out. I took a deep breath to calm my nerves and followed him inside the house. I could hear Carole and Finn in the kitchen, and I could smell something delicious. I wasn't too good with placing scents with foods, but I could tell that it had meat in it. Probably meatballs, she made spaghetti often enough. It didn't matter, though. I wasn't hungry; I was nervous. Dad went into the Kitchen and began talking with Carole and Finn. I seated myself in front of the TV in the living room. Dad walked out of the kitchen and went upstairs, probably to take a quick shower. Every few seconds I would glace back at the door hoping Finn would walk in but he didn't. That was enough to dampen any hopes I had.

"Kurt, dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes," Carole called from the kitchen.

"Okay," I called back.

This was thoroughly irritating, and I was getting more uncomfortable by the second. Would I _never_ get any alone time with Finn? It was as if the universe was prolonging my anticipation. The minutes ticked by slowly and I kept looking from the clock to the door…

"Get over it, Kurt, man up," I told myself. What's the worst that could happen? Even if Finn was having second thoughts about the kiss, he couldn't hold me responsible for the entire thing, because he had participated. I hadn't imposed anything on him. With that mildly assuring thought in mind, I stood up, sighed, and mustered up some courage before walking into the kitchen to make myself a drink to go with dinner. Carole and Dad usually had wine so Finn and I were allowed to make anything we wanted sans alcohol. I almost always went with avocado shakes.

Carole was in front of the stove, and Finn was setting the table. He had changed his clothes and was now wearing a plain gray t-shirt and trousers, with black flip-flops. There he was, beautifully casual, and relaxed, while I was a nervous wreck. Or maybe he was just hiding his own uneasiness. He looked in my direction and smiled, but didn't say anything. I smiled back and started making the drink.

Dinner was delicious. I had thought that I wasn't hungry, but then proceeded to devour all the spaghetti on my plate. I hadn't eaten anything after breakfast, actually, and the only thing I'd had all day was water. The whole kissing episode with Finn had made me forget my appetite, but now it was very much back. I took a little sip of the avocado shake.

"Hey, Finn, how was the therapy session?" Dad asked him. Finn seemed distracted but dad's voice shook him out of it.

"Oh, it was good," he said with a little smile. "The doc said I'll only need one or two more sessions."

"That's good news," Dad said gladly, and went back to talking with Carole.

"The food is great," I smiled in Carole's direction. I advanced to put some more spaghetti in my plate from the large bowl in the middle of the table.

"Thank you, Kurt," she said. "I haven't seen you eat like this in weeks."

"Just hungry," I said casually. She smiled brighter and then proceeded to continue her conversation with Dad about something she had seen on the news that day. I couldn't explain the hunger myself, though. Maybe I was doing some tension-eating.

Just then, I felt something strange on my shoe. A weight that wasn't there a few seconds ago. I stopped eating. But before I could pull back my seat to see what it was, it quickly started moving along the length of my white leather Gucci boat shoes. I wasn't wearing socks so it made contact with my skin near the ankle. I was surprised to feel… skin. I looked up from my plate at Finn, who was sitting in front of me. He was staring at me. But suddenly his lips turned into a smile, and then into a full-blown grin when his toe proceeded up from the ankle along my leg. Finn's tall, so he didn't have to push his torso forward to get his leg to reach me. To Dad and Carole, he was sitting perfectly still. I shifted uncomfortably. Carole and Dad had no idea what was going on.

I was annoyed, though. First he completely ignored me all through the evening, didn't even talk to me, and now he's running his barefoot along my leg! I didn't want to admit how much I was enjoying it, and how much it was turning me on. I decided to get back at him. Before he could pull back I reached down and grabbed his bare foot by the toe. Finn pulled his leg back in alarm, and his knee struck the underside of the table, hard, and all the tableware made a loud noise. He looked embarrassed. The parents gave us a strange look. I just shrugged, excused myself, and left for my room, glass of avocado shake in hand.

* * *

It's a well-known fact that there are always more questions than there are answers. You could ask an infinite number of questions in life but the answers weren't always available in the nearest encyclopedia. If you look at the bottom line, the fundamental subjects in life are all yes/no questions. For example, there is either a god or there isn't. This didn't make the problem simpler, though. It gets difficult when you can't offer explanations and excuses but have to face either an affirmative or a negative. The details all come later. You can spend your lifetime thinking about what the afterlife is _like_ but the basic question of whether it exists or not is the hardest part to figure out. And there is always, always, only one correct answer; an answer that has no ambiguities. That is what appeals to human logic. So, if all this is true, then I was faced with the same kind of difficult question. That Finn either liked me, or he didn't.

I had called Finn my knight in shining armor plenty of times. He didn't know that, of course, but it was true. Finn had helped me out a lot of times, especially when he occasionally defended me against the guys on the school's football team. It's strange how very often we affiliated our romances with fictions of the olden days, the fairy tales, and the fantasies. I'd read about the Norse gods once. They came into being centuries before the birth of Christ. The Norse believed they lived on a piece of land called Midgard that was surrounded by the world of the giants. Their gods, like Thor, protected the people against those giants, but more importantly, they protected their goddesses, like Freyja. Of course, those gods were imagined by the people, and when there is no other way to explain a phenomenon, people lean towards religion and imagination. Their countless tales about the gods saving those goddesses from the bad guys had probably evolved over the centuries. They were applied to humans, the princes and heroes who would save the damsels from dragons, witches, or some other villain from the author's imagination. But what if those same gods were the origin of the modern concept of heroism? Thor, the original knight in shining armour, wielding his hammer, and his chariot driven by goats. Food for my journal, I thought.

Finn walked in ten minutes after I had come in and seated himself on the end of his bed. I was sitting on the couch, waiting for him. He was glaring at me, and as much as I wanted to show some attitude and ignore his piercing stare, I couldn't. I wanted to him to say something, and I wanted to apologize for what I'd done at the dinner table. He didn't talk, so I took a deep breath and started.

"Finn, listen," I said as softly as I could. "I'm sorry about what I did at the table... I just wanted to..."

He didn't talk, he didn't move, he just kept giving me that unsettling look. "Finn, you were ignoring me, and then you started-"

"I was _not_ ignoring you, Kurt," he said with a bit of surprise in his voice. "I was just waiting for dinner to be over so we could talk about what happened... without any disturbances."

I could see how poorly I'd acted. "And what about what you were doing at the table?"

"I thought you'd like it," he said, no longer angry, but his face had a gloomy look.

I felt guiltier at his expression than anything else. "I'm really so very sorry, Finn. I just loved what we did today and I couldn't contain myself. I wanted to talk about it…"

"So let's talk about it," he said, and I could tell by the slightly confident look on his face that he had already planned on what to say. I couldn't tell whether he'd forgiven me.

I hadn't even thought about what I would say, so I decided to go from the heart. But first I had to know what his thoughts were. "Finn, did you like it?"

He took a few seconds to think. "Yes, yes, of course I liked it, man. I've told you before, your lips are soft."

He said it so matter-of-factly that I didn't know whether to take it as a sincere compliment. I suddenly lost my will. "Okay…"

"Do you still… like me?" he asked awkwardly. "Is that why you kissed me?"

The conversation couldn't _possibly _go any worse than this. "Does it really matter if you don't reciprocate the feelings?" I asked disheartened.

"It does matter!"

"How, Finn? You're not gay, you've made that clear often enough."

"I'm not, yeah."

"Then why did you kiss me back?"

"It was a... spur of the moment thing, dude. I was horny. It's been a long time since I..."

"Since you what? _Got laid_? That's all it meant to you, right? A way to get your rocks off," I half-yelled, and my voice broke. I was dangerously close to crying. "All my life, Finn, I've fallen in love with the wrong kind of guys, and this used to feel like one of those times, but I've never gotten this close to any of them." My mouth twitched with every attempt to keep it straight, and the tears flowed.

"No! Please don't cry. Kurt, you're twisting my words. I might not be gay but you're not just another guy."

Say what? Now _that _was a genuine compliment coming from Finn. I really wanted to hear more. "What does that mean?"

"It means... You are special. To me. I can't explain it, Kurt, but I do know that you mean more to me than just another _dude_."

I was beyond caring to get a tissue and wiped my tears on the sleeve of my shirt, which was a first.

"I'm sorry if I made you think I didn't care," Finn said and stood up. "And I never want to see you cry because of me."

I smiled at how terribly sappy that was. He walked over and sat on the couch next to me.

"You have to know, Kurt, about where I'm coming from," he said softly. "How strange it feels to me to be attracted to a guy."

"You can talk to me about it."

"I know," he smiled. "This just isn't about me, you know. Isn't it what you want? 'We' instead of 'I'? So help me understand."

"I'm just worried everything is going to crumble, Finn... Everything I've done and everything that I've waited for will go up in smoke." I'd never been this honest with him about anything.

"I'm not going to make any promises I can't keep," Finn said. "I don't know how this is gonna end, Kurt, but I know that this..."

He leaned in and gave me a peck on the lips, making me shiver. "... is easy enough for me. That's all the assurance I can give right now."

"I understand, Finn... And that's still more than what I can ask for."

He smiled.

I smiled.

Our lips were together the next second. All my doubts, worries and pressures about the future seemed to dissolve between the soft contact of our lips. He moved his body closer to mine and I put my arms around his shoulders. He put his hand on my cheek and his fingers lightly ran down to my neck. His lips were a little chapped, but I didn't mind the rough feel against my moisturized mouth. The roughness was hard, erotic, and something I desperately craved. Before Finn could press me back on the couch, I unwound my arms from his neck, put my hands on his firm pecs, and pushed him down. The kiss broke and he fell back against the padded armrest of the couch. I grinned at him and leaned in, crashing my lips against his. The aftertaste of dinner in his mouth was similar to my own, and I could smell my shampoo in his hair. I rubbed my thigh against his crotch and he moaned. Now that was a sound I could get used to. His hands were on my back, slowly rubbing up and down. I pressed my body against his and, once again, elicited a moan out of him, before raising my body to create some space between us. I put my fingers under the hem of his t-shirt and raised it up to his chest. I ran my hands over his abs and the feeling was divine, and he moaned as an evident display of his approval. But when I moved my hands further up, Finn gently grasped my wrists and broke the kiss. I gave him a quizzical look.

"Kurt," he said, his voice throaty, but his expression serious. "We can't do that now."

I didn't know whether he wasn't ready or whether he was afraid someone would walk in. Either way, I had gotten too caught up in the moment.

"Yes, I understand. I'm sorry." I pulled his shirt back down over his body.

He smiled, evidently relieved.

I wanted to relish this moment for as long as I could. I knew Finn wouldn't sleep in my bed tonight, and I was too scared to ask it out loud. I was already lying on top of him, so I put my head on his chest and closed my eyes. He put his arm around me. Moments like this might only come a few more times, maybe until he found another girlfriend, or maybe until he realized the consequences of what we were doing. I was determined to enjoy whatever I got.

I wasn't desperate, just an opportunist.

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**Your reviews/criticisms/suggestions are, of course, welcome as always. :]**


	9. Broken

**Thank you for all the people who have reviewed + fave'd + alert'd so far. Your feedback is the reason I spend hours on this. :]  
**

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"Carole, I don't think you can pull off that jacket with that white chiffon top you have," I said eyeing the beautiful brown leather military-style jacket on the computer screen and the clothes lying on the bed.

I was in Dad and Carole's bedroom in front of my dad's laptop. She had called me there to help her pick out some new clothes on some websites. We'd pulled out her more trendy articles of clothing from the closet (which, of course, I'd helped her buy) and laid them on the bed for easier comparisons. It had been about two months since she'd bought clothes and, as expected, she had come straight to me for advice on what she could get on the trip to the mall next week.

"I'll probably wear that top with those," she said pointing to a pair of black denim pants lying on the bed.

"Not the best idea, to be honest. A much better choice would be to wear it with those boot-cut dark blue jeans you wore the last time we went to dinner."

"That sounds good. Okay, what about this jacket?" she said, enlarging the image of a model wearing a full-sleeved gray colored jacket, cut just above the waist.

"That would be perfect if they have one in your size," I said, quite honestly.

She gave me a playful look. "I am not fat!"

"Look at the model wearing it, Carole," I said, pointing to the skinny brunette in the picture. "She looks like a size zero."

"She looks like her head is too heavy for her neck!" she retorted genially.

"That, too."

We both giggled. This was actually quite fun. After about fifteen more minutes of exchanging ideas, and me trying to completely edit Carole's fashion sense, I helped her put away the clothes back to her closet and she printed out a few images of what she would look for at the mall. She grabbed her purse, and we both walked downstairs. She headed out to buy groceries and I went back to my room.

I walked into the room to see Finn changing his shirt. That was something that never failed to turn me on. The walls of modesty between Finn and I were slowly breaking down. He didn't mind being shirtless in front of me now and it was a welcome change, in my opinion. It excited me. Typically, it was Finn who did things like this to get me aroused, like taking off shirt while wearing his shorts or pants extra low just to show off his insanely sexy v-muscle. While I usually never took off my shirt around the house, I had started coming out of the shower shirtless quite often. Finn's eyes usually followed me around when I did. It gave me an odd satisfaction to be the one causing the sexual tension in the room. Neither of us spoke about it, but it was obvious that both of us enjoyed the teasing. We still hadn't gone 'all the way', though, and sometimes I wondered if all the teasing might backfire on us; that we might grow a little _too _frustrated by the lack of sex. I thought I might go insane.

I bit my lip when he turned to me, with a smile, and started buttoning his shirt up.

"Hey, Kurt. How was the clothes search?" he said casually after he was done. He started putting some things in a bag and then put the bag on the end of his bed.

"It was all right… Where are you going?" I asked him, and wrapped my arms around his waist, pulling our bodies close.

He smiled. "Football practice."

"What? It's summer vacations, Finn."

"I know. But our performance all through last year was so bad that Coach Tanaka wanted to start practices earlier this year. Usually we start in the August, but that's pretty late in football season, you know."

"No, I don't know. I really don't know how this football stuff works. But are you sure your arm is well enough to play?" I say while rubbing my hand over said arm.

"It hurts a little if I move it too fast, but I can attend the strategy class and exercise a little."

"Can't you just stay home? We could watch a movie."

"I can't. The quarterback always has to attend. Besides, I haven't seen Puck and the guys in a while," he said getting out of my embrace.

I watched him put on his shoes. "I want to go with you."

"Uhh… Well, I don't see a problem with that," he said and stood up. "But you'll get bored."

"No, I won't. Are you joking?" I said, and then smiled. "Watching you get sweaty and bossy out on the field makes you infinitely hotter."

He chuckled and grabbed the bag. "Sure. Come on."

The drive to school took about ten minutes, during which Finn had the radio turned on at a high volume, and I didn't really want to yell over it, so I didn't talk. I did, however, give myself a few looks in the side-view mirror just to see if my hair and clothes were presentable. When we reached there, I saw the Cheerios on the field. They were scattered around, and Ms. Sylvester was sitting on a bench, writing something on a piece of paper attached to a clipboard.

I headed towards Brittany, Santana and Quinn who were standing in a group, and Finn went to the far end of the field where a few members of the football team seemed to be doing warm-ups.

"Hello, ladies," I said, hugging them one by one.

"Hey," Brittany said cheerfully.

"I thought only the football team was stupid enough to come to school in the summer," I said lightheartedly.

"Coach Sylvester says we'll get rusty if we don't practice through the summer," Quinn said, and it was obvious she didn't want to be there.

"Yeah, duh, we have to win Nationals again this year," Santana said with her usual copious amounts of arrogance.

I rolled my eyes. "Excuse me, ladies, I have to go."

"Where? And why are you here anyway, Hummel?" Santana asked.

"Finn has football practice so I came to watch."

"Oh, so are you, like, his rebound action after Rachel dumped him?"

Maybe that actually _was_ true. How upsetting. "I'll see you guys later."

As I walked away, I saw Santana roll her eyes and heard Brittany ask Quinn how to spell 'orange'.

I went to sit on the bleachers. Finn hadn't come out of the locker room yet, and there was no one from the team on the field, so I assumed they were having a strategy class. I busied myself watching the Cheerios. They flawlessly performed the kind of physical feats that I couldn't imagine doing myself. Their coach was the reason, obviously. Ms. Sylvester was a leader. A ruthless, arrogant, and egotistical person by nature but she always worked them that extra mile that put the cheerleaders of McKinley a notch above all the other teams in the state. While usually I would join the others in making fun of her, secretly I thought highly of her. Her unwavering confidence was something I wanted, and needed.

"Unimposing," she yelled into a microphone to the group of weary teenagers. Then, as an afterthought, she added, "You think this is hard? Try getting denailed. That's hard."

I wondered why she used fear and torture references as a motivation technique. Maybe good old fashioned inspiration was lost on her.

I saw the football team come out into the field, followed by their coach, who started instructing them on exercises. Some of the guys started doing pushups but Finn wasn't one of them. He started jogging with a few guys. One of them I recognized was Puck. After some warm-ups, about half of the team started playing football, continuously arguing with the coach and each other about how what would and wouldn't work. Finn was standing on the side talking to Puck, he gestured at me, and I saw Puck turn back to look at me. I waved at him. He didn't return it, but turned back to talk to Finn. I rolled my eyes.

As much as I despised the guys on the sports teams of our school, I also believed that there was no gay teen in the world who would deny that most of them were physically attractive. Of course, no amount of physical arousal would make Azimio even tolerable for me, but guys like Mike and Puck were, for the lack of a better word, hot. But, of course, for me, none even came close to Finn. I stared at him in his red and gray sleeveless t-shirt and red shorts. The front of his shirt was already getting drenched in sweat. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't just thought about raunchy sex with him in the locker room.

The debate on what is 'truly' beautiful was a matter of argument, though. Finn was attractive, but only to me, and perhaps to some other people. I thought that the major reason that arguments like this are never settled is the human limitation that is 'perspective'. Try as we may, we can never see the world from someone else's eyes. That makes it all the more difficult to decide whether or not matters like beauty, ethics, modesty and morality were innate or implanted into our minds by society, religion or media. I knew that philosophers of the old times thought beauty was intrinsic, but that didn't explain why some people had some preferences over others. I believed that Heraclitus had a point when he said that the world was characterized by opposites. He said that we could not know what it was truly like to be healthy if we never fell ill. In the same way, we could not know what was beautiful until we laid eyes on what was ugly. If that is true, then is there such a thing as objective beauty and ugliness? But how is it that we can tell the two apart? In an inverted order of the universe, maybe what we found ugly, like bad physique, would be liked? So in reality, beauty was whatever caused a pleasant stir in human emotions, regardless of what it _looked_ like to the human eye. So while beauty might not be completely objective, there was some general consensus on what was attractive and what wasn't, even if it was something spoon fed to us by the media or society. That didn't take a whole of philosophical justification; it was common sense. It was the innate reason that human beings are all born with.

There were so many of these thoughts that I couldn't talk about with Finn. I tried to imagine a scenario where I was explaining to Finn about the innate existence of morality. He would probably think I was insane. I didn't know how long I was thinking about that, but when I snapped out of my thoughts and looked at the field, I couldn't see Finn and about half the team. He probably went inside. I decided to go find him. I entered the building and saw that it was deserted. Of course, no one except the football team and Cheerios were in the school. The classrooms were locked. I made my way through the corridor, and turned right into the hallway that led to the locker room. Finn was standing in front of a cooler at the beginning of the corridor, filling a bottle with water. I walked up to him and he smiled when he saw me.

"Hey, gorgeous," I said cheerfully.

"Hi. Hope you're not bored. We'll probably be done soon," he said.

"I'm not particularly bored, though I know a way I can be enjoying myself," I purred, stepping just a little closer to him.

He looked a little uncomfortable and it made me uncertain. "We can't do anything here, dude."

"Why, Finn, I don't know what you mean by 'anything'." I was not to be deterred.

"You know how exercising makes me horny, but we have to be careful," he said slowly, but his eyes were fixed on mine.

"You just look so hot right now," I said breathily. It was true, his face was flushed pink and he had a few drops of sweat on his neck. It was strange even to me that I found something so crude, sexy.

"I'm sweaty," he said plainly.

"Yeah," I whispered, and rubbed my knee on front of his thigh.

I couldn't stop. I took a step forward, pulled his neck down with one hand and kissed him hard. He could have stepped back or pushed me away, but he didn't. He didn't kiss me back with much enthusiasm either, though. It was good, in the same way that kissing Finn was always good, but it wasn't electrifyingly erotic either. He got into it a few seconds later and pushed me up against the locker, kissing me intently. I put my hand under his shirt, feeling the moisture on his abs and chest. I shut my eyes to enjoy the feeling even more. The information of where we were doing this added to the pleasure. He moved from my lips to my jaw and I was surprised, he'd never gone beyond the mouth before. His lips moved from my mouth to my jaw, and then slowly to my neck. It was a new world of sensation for me. I had never experienced something so addictive and immediately erotic before.

Suddenly, it stopped. The kisses stopped. And for a second I thought he was moving his sinuous lips to some other part of my anatomy, but when I heard a grunt and a thud my eyes shot open. Finn was lying on the floor in front of me, and on his side was standing three guys from the team. Azimio, Langenthal, and a guy I didn't know, had apparently come out of the locker room and caught us kissing. When I realized what they'd seen Finn and I doing, the first instinct was to run. But I stood my ground. Before I could say or do anything, Langenthal slammed me against the locker, knocking the breath out of me, and Azimio kicked Finn in the stomach.

"What the fuck, Hudson?" Azimio yelled. "You're a queer for this little bitch now?"

"Don't you _fucking_ touch him," I yelled louder. This was not a time to be considering what to say. I was beyond controlling my shock and rage at what was happening.

"Try and stop me, homo," he challenged and forcefully pushed me back against the locker again. The back of my head hit against it, hard, and for a second my vision went hazy. The third guy who had been quiet up 'til now, grabbed both my wrists and twisted my arms behind my back.

Langenthal grabbed my hair and pulled my head back. It hurt, but I wouldn't give them the satisfaction by shouting. Finn grunted and tried to stand up but another kick made him clutch his stomach fall back down.

"The hell is going on here?" I heard from across the hall and turned my head to see Puck running towards us. He pushed Azimio back and helped Finn stand back up. "Let go of him," he gestured towards me.

"Stay out of this Puckerman. We just caught these two fags making out," said Azimio with an unbelievable amount of hate in his voice.

Puck gave Finn a look full of disgust, but then turned to Azimio and said, "And how the hell is that your problem?"

The boy looked startled, as if he had been expecting Puck to turn on us after hearing that. "We don't need homos on our team," he said spitefully. "We're just teaching them a lesson."

"Let the coach decide who stays on the team," retaliated Puck, but the guy didn't release my arms, neither did Langenthal let go of my hair. In fact, he pulled it back harder, I whimpered in pain. "I said let him go," Puck screamed. It was surprising to see him defend me so vehemently.

"You don't boss us around." Azimio wouldn't let up.

"I can't fight the three of you," Puck admitted. "But I can call the coach right now and get you dumbasses kicked off the team."

"You think your life's gonna get easier if you do?"

"Maybe not, but I'm pretty sure you guys will lose your juice when you're not the top jocks anymore," Puck said with a strange calm.

That seemed to hit home. Azimio motioned for the other two to let me go, and they did. My back slid against the lockers and fell to the ground. It took every ounce of self-control I had not to break down right there. Finn had his hand against the side of his chest and an indignant expression on his face. This was every bit as much about his image as it was about his physical injuries. The three guys walked away quietly, without causing any more trouble.

Puck contemplated us silently for a few seconds before squatting down in front of me and putting his hand on my shoulder. "You okay?"

"Thank you," I said sincerely, looking up at him.

He didn't say anything back to me, but stood up. "I hope you guys know what trouble you've gotten yourself into," he said to Finn.

"This is so screwed up," said Finn, putting his hands to his face.

"I can't help you out every time," said Puck, and I knew it was true. "I can't get into it if the whole team rounds up on you for this."

"You'll be on their side." That was what I understood from his words. I stood up with some difficulty. The back of my head was still throbbing.

"No." He turned to face me. "I just can't help the next time."

"I understand."

"You should know better than to start anything like that with those guys around," said Puck, and that's when the guilt overcame me.

"It was my fault," I said and Finn glared at me. "I started it."

"So you guys are really together?" he asked. "Don't get me wrong, I don't mind or care, but still... It's a little weird..."

"No, we're not together," said Finn in a cold voice and started to walk away.

"Finn!" I called but he didn't stop. I started going after him. Puck didn't follow.

"Stop following me," he said bitterly, and started walking faster. "We're done."

"No. Please, Finn, don't do this."

"Shut up," he yelled, stopped, and turned around. "Screw this, I never should have given this a chance. Don't you understand how much I was risking for you?" His voice went louder with every word. "And just because you couldn't control yourself, now my whole life's gonna turn to hell. So fuck you, Kurt, and all your fantasies, too. We're _done_."

That was all it took for me to break. The tears started flowing and I raised my hand in front of me, as if to clutch at air, hoping Finn would take pity, hoping that he would forgive me. But he turned around and walked out.

I leaned against the wall, and slowly slid down to the ground. Hugging my knees to my chest, I cried harder than I ever had. I sobbed and moaned but Finn didn't come back. I knew that walking out wasn't easy for him, but what he didn't realize was that we could have gotten through the social troubles together.

I turned my head and was surprised to see Noah standing a few feet away from he. He walked over, sat down next to me, and put his arm around my shoulder. A gentle act of kindness coming from school badass Noah Puckerman was surprising, even though we did know each other from the club. I didn't resist. I put my head on his shoulder and cried.

And my damn hands wouldn't stop shaking.

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**Your thoughts and suggestions are much appreciated!**


	10. Side Effects

**This chapter is for you, XStarNobleX.** **Your review for the last chapter was the best. Thank you. :] Also, thank you everyone for reading, reviewing and fave'ing!**

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Seated on my porch in a comfortable wooden lawn chair, journal and pen in my lap, I gazed up at the sky to see the black clouds forming. It was five in the evening. The breeze was cool, and the weather was too nice to pass up. The iPod played _Cold_ by Annie Lennox into my ears, and I was softly singing along. There were too many thoughts in my head, accumulating the last few days, and I had no way of venting. Headaches were a regular part of my day now, and the aspirin didn't seem to be working. I took a deep breath and the soft earthy smell that always precedes the rain, relaxed me. It felt nice to sit here. I hadn't much ventured out of my room these last three days, while Finn had done everything he could to avoid even looking at me. The first night he had even slept on the couch in the living room. He wasn't home most of the day and usually just came for meals or at night to sleep, claiming to be at Puck's or at the school for football practice. His quiet hostility against me, of course, went unnoticed by Dad and Carole who thought that Finn was only spending so much time outside because he had spent almost a month cooped up in the house.

I needed a break from thinking about things like heartbreak and the drama. I had to stop torturing myself with these thoughts, and I couldn't tell anyone. But I couldn't concentrate with music, so I pulled out the earplugs and started writing in my journal.

_"I feel an emotional void. But I don't want to cry and whine about what happened. I don't know whether I have wasted my chance or there is still hope. But how can I ever know, if he doesn't tell me? There is only so much thought I can put into this and only so many justifications I can offer, but whatever the case, it happened. I didn't know what it was like to have a secret love, and I'm afraid I couldn't control myself. The pain has settled into a kind of numbness that won't go away, and that, in turn, is forming into some kind of restlessness. I am not content. Far from it, in fact, but then I think back to the Cynics who said that happiness should not and does not depend on external material factors. They were so brash that they said true happiness doesn't even depend on health. __And__ they said that real happiness, once found, can never be lost. That is something I absolutely can't agree with under any circumstances. I've seen real joy with Finn, and it went just as fast as it came. But it __is__ funny how cynicism has come to mean something else entirely." _

I saw Finn's car pull into to the driveway. Out of the passenger seat stepped Quinn Fabray, clad in a white spaghetti-strap tank top under a pink button down sweater, paired with a black skirt. The much dreaded pang of hurt and jealousy hit me like a train. To me, she looked ugly, even though her soft-looking blonde hair and genuinely happy smile were absolutely radiating positivity. She pulled out her purse. Finn also climbed out of driver's seat, happily saying something to her that I couldn't hear. When she saw me, she gave an unsettled look, but then took hold of Finn's hand and started walking towards the house. I was aware of the fact that as far as the people at school knew, the time we had been caught making out was the first time I had kissed him, and even then they probably considered it to be my fault; that _I_ had come on to _him._ Finn didn't even look at me.

They reached the door and walked inside without giving me a second look. I sighed and went back to my writing.

_"Was this quarrel between Finn and I 'meant to be'? I don't believe in a completely predestined life. Quite the opposite, in fact, but then again, the disputed idea of fatalism is one of the uglier arguments. The mediums and fortune tellers are handing out second-hand faith all over the world. The religions assert that there exists a fate for all human beings. If you believe in religion it's 'faith' but when you believe in a passing black cat, it's 'superstition'. And 'fate' is a little of both. The line between faith and superstition become__s__ blurred when it comes to destiny. But science always wants to prove natural reasons for all the events in the world. They say that the moment one starts to believe in the supernatural, one deviates from rationalism. I think fate's a very broad concept that encompasses all the choices we make, all the coincidences, and all of our luck. There are innumerable paths laid down for us in life, and our future depends on which paths we take. We were supposed to learn our lessons from the stories and stories about fate that said that we can't escape our destiny. Like the tale of Oedipus... but the fight was definitely my own fault. I'd chosen poorly. Looking at it now, I realize that I have learned something..."_

A drop of water landed on the page and blotted a word. It had started to drizzle and the wind was getting stronger. I stood up to go into the house but then stopped. I couldn't go in there. God only knew what kind of repulsive acts Finn was likely to be performing on Quinn inside our room. The mere thought made me want to cry. I needed to do something else, and I needed to be somewhere else.

I did the first thing that came to mind. I pulled out my phone and pressed the speed dial number on the '2' key. She picked up after two rings.

"Hey, are you at home?" I said quickly.

"Hey, Kurt, I'm glad you called," Mercedes answered. "Yeah, I'm at home. You're coming over, right?"

She knew me very, very well. "Yes, I was thinking that maybe… We could talk."

"I heard what happened, Kurt. I knew you'd call when you were ready to talk."

"So it's all right if I come over?"

"You don't even have to ask!"

"Thanks, Mercedes."

"No problem. And hurry up, it's gonna start raining hard soon."

"I will. See you."

"'Bye."

I hurriedly went inside and picked my car keys out of a drawer in the living room. The journal and iPod, I put away in my bag which I put on the top shelf of the TV rack. The drive to Mercedes' place took less time than I had thought it would, but by the time I got there, the rain was heavy. I hadn't brought my umbrella, unfortunately, and in the short walk from the driveway to the door, I was drenched. I didn't even want to think about what this water was doing to the stitching of my ivory colored double-breasted Prada coat. Thankfully, not a lot of the water seeped into my shirt. I slammed my fist into the door thrice. Mercedes came at the door.

"Dear God, Kurt," she said and stepped aside to let me. "Should've brought an umbrella with you!"

"I forgot," I said, and quickly removed my coat. My pants were a little wet but not too badly. I left the coat to hang.

She took me to her bedroom. I sat on her bed, and she sat next to me.

Mercedes' gaze went from her fingernails to my face and I wasn't even looking in her direction. I looked at the window. The sun hadn't set yet but the clouds had made everything darker, more beautiful. The silence was thick. Neither of us knew how to start. This was a new situation. I'd never before gotten so heavily attached to another person as I had with Finn. And none of my crushes had ever reciprocated the gesture at all. Ever since the break-up, everything had been so alien and I wondered how people deal in these situations. How did they know what to do? How does one ever really know when to move on? I could tell that Mercedes didn't know how to go about this conversation, either. But I needed her, and her company was enough to make me feel marginally better. After a minute she put her hand on my arm and I looked at her.

"So..." she began. "Problems with the love life of my favorite man, huh?"

"I don't have a love life to speak of, Mercedes."

"Don't feel sorry for yourself, Kurt, because that doesn't suit you," he said with a little smile, but I could see a little sadness in her eyes.

"You don't know what I'm going through, and it's hard not to feel sorry for myself... Knowing that whatever happened was my fault."

"How long were you guys together?"

"We weren't. Well, at least not officially. We kissed and that was it... Around two weeks."

"You should've told me," she sighed.

"Do you resent that I didn't?"

"No, of course not," she said, surprised. "You must've had your reasons."

I was relieved at her answer. "Honestly, I didn't have any legitimate reasons. I don't know why I didn't tell you. Maybe because I wasn't sure what would happen."

"So whatchu gonna do now?"

"He doesn't talk to me anymore. And from the looks of it, he's going out with Quinn."

"No way!" she said in disbelief. "You wanna know what I think?"

"What?" I put my elbows on my knees and leaned forward.

"I think he hasn't thought anything through. Maybe he thought the best way to fix his reputation would be to start going out with the prettiest girl in school."

"Everybody's on vacations, how could he still be caring about his reputation?" This was something I could never really understand.

"You know about the kids at school, Kurt. Everyone reads Jacob's blog and then there's Twitter," she said and I knew she was right.

"..." What could I say?

"Remember when I said you give up if this doesn't work out? Scratch that. I think you should look forward to something."

"I can't dangle by a thread, Mercedes. He's either with me or he isn't. Why do I keep waiting for him?"

"There's not much else you can do, is there? If you love him!"

"Maybe there is..." Something occurred to me just then.

I leaned in and kissed Mercedes. Not a small peck on the cheek, but a full-blown kiss on the lips. I could tell that she was too surprised to move for a second and I took that moment to lean in closer and kiss her harder. It was strange, not entirely bad, but not as good as kissing Finn. It was soft, much softer than when it was with him. I could taste her banana flavoured lip gloss. Odd taste for a gloss, I thought, but its flavour was by far the best thing about the kiss. It went on for a few seconds, and while she didn't kiss me back, she didn't move away either. I had kissed Brittany, and this was a little better, even though there weren't any scented candles and dim lighting in the room. Maybe because I was doing this out of my own free will, under no duress. I was doing this as a little test, though. Was there something that Finn, a straight guy, had found appealing about kissing me? I was in the same situation that he'd been when he'd kissed me. I'd had a falling out with the guy I liked. I didn't wear lip gloss, so it couldn't have been the taste. Then what was it that Finn liked...?

I was contemplating this when she gently pushed me away. Her lips quivered a little and then ran a hand through her straightened hair. I breathed slowly. Thinking, thinking, thinking...

"What're you doing?" she asked finally, her voice shaky.

"Uhh..." I hadn't realized how awkward this would be after I did it. "I kissed you."

"I'm not retarded, I know what that is," she said indignantly. "No offence, but we both know that you're as queer as a football bat. What gives?"

"I just... Wanted to experiment."

"Look, we're best friends," she said and closed her eyes. "... And honestly, I'm not gonna take advantage of your breakup."

"Finn gave me a chance after he broke up with Rachel!"

"Oh, yeah? How'd that work out for you?" she said sarcastically.

That stung. "Thanks for the support, Bestie."

She looked at me apologetically. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that."

"Wasn't it you who was _just_ telling me to look forward to getting back together with Finn?"

"Yeah, and I meant it."

"How can you be so optimistic about this?"

"Like I said, before you _interrupted_ me," she said with a little smile and I couldn't help but smile back. The tension always dissolved fast with Mercedes. "You've had a taste of the guy you love, Kurt, and you're not gonna be able to get over him anytime soon."

"I already know that. What's your point?"

"It's not always a bad thing to have a little faith. Maybe he'll get out of this anger phase and realize you're... good for him."

"You know how to cheer someone up," I said and chuckled. "I just don't think it's gonna work. He's made it very clear that he's into guys, even if it's a little."

"Maybe he's not, and maybe he's curious. Kurt, you need to stop questioning the reasons behind every good thing that comes your way. How can you know for sure that he won't come around?"

"I... Don't, actually." I realized that she had a valid point. There was no harm in a little hope.

"So it's settled, then. Don't let this 'phase' of his get you so far down," she said and stood up. "I'm gonna get some coffee, want some?"

I nodded and grinned for the first time in days. There was something oddly uplifting about the situation. It was nice knowing that someone understood my trouble. I respected Mercedes a lot for putting sense into me, and I would follow her advice. After all, how I could I not? I didn't have too many options.

"So you're staying here tonight," she announced when she returned. She handed me a cup of steaming hot coffee with skimmed milk. She knew how I liked mine.

"Am I?" I asked. "I can go home, it's no trouble."

"No. We can't risk you walking in on Finn and Quinn's sexcapedes I'm worried you might kill her," she added jokingly. "And it still hasn't stopped raining."

I couldn't disagree. "What about clothes?"

"I have t-shirts and sweatpants, Kurt. Don't worry."

I smiled and nodded. She took a sip of the coffee, and I did the same.

"I'll inform dad," I said and pulled out my phone from the pocket of my pants.

Dad had no objections to me staying at her house. I knew that the night we would spend listening to music, singing, talking, and laughing.

There was a silver lining to look forward to.

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**R&Rs are much appreciated!**


	11. On Our Way

**Here is a longish chapter. This one contains goodness of a citrus-y kind, if ya know what I mean. Enjoy :]**

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I was in my room, sitting in front of my Macbook, looking up articles on how to pierce my own ear when my phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Kurt, what's up?" Mercedes spoke loudly over the phone.

"Same old, same old. Anything special on your end?"

"Actually, yeah. Here's why I called: you know it's Tina's birthday today."

"I know, I called to wish her this morning," I said.

"Well, she's having a party at her place tonight. Music, fun, games, and all."

"Oh, that sounds exciting."

"You need to help out with setting it up. I'm already at her place, and you need to get here soon as you can."

"Great. You know you won't find a better party planner," I said jokingly.

She laughed. "Sure, Kurt, just pick up crepe paper ribbon rolls on your way here. We've got the balloons and the banner."

"Any specific colors Tina would prefer?"

"You know what she likes."

"Okay, I won't deviate from the blue, black and purple," I said and laughed.

"Good boy," she said. "See ya."

I had nothing to do, so I left immediately. Finn wasn't home either, so I wasn't wasting my time sitting around hoping that he would come and talk to me. He had been giving me the silent treatment since we had a falling out. I dropped by a gift store, and got for Tina the first thing that came to mind: a set of perfumes. It was a good brand, not cheap, but not overly expensive, so I decided it would be the best thing to give. I also bought a few rolls of the crepe paper Mercedes had asked for. I wasn't an expert on organizing games or entertainment at parties, but I had a good idea on how to decorate the place. Knowing Tina, the party wouldn't be Barbie-themed. She wasn't a gloomy person, but she liked dark colours, and I imagined that's how she'd want to have the party.

Her house wasn't too large, but big enough to have a decent party. We didn't need a large venue, anyway, because I knew that Tina would only invite the glee club. I grabbed the bag with the party accessories from the passenger seat but left behind the one that held the gift. I was warmly invited inside by her mother, who was, I had to admit, quite beautiful with her straight black hair that reached her hips and a pale complexion. Mercedes and Artie were already at her place, and when I went in Tina greeted me with a hug. The main place for the party would be the decent-sized living room. A banner that said "Happy Birthday Tina!" in bold glittery purple characters over a black background was already in place high above the TV. A Beyoncé playlist was going on full-volume on her iPod speakers.

"This looks good guys," I said, eyeing the banner and the room which was cleared out of tables and sofas to make decorating easier.

"Thanks," said Tina. "We'll bring in the tables and stuff after we finished putting up all the balloons, etcetera."

"Should I start working on these?" I said lifting up the bag with the rolls of crepe paper.

"Sure, yeah," she said cheerfully. "Make some streamers, or whatever else you can think of that'll look good."

"Gotcha."

Between me, Mercedes, Tina and Artie working, the decoration took only an hour. By the time we were done, the room was adorned with glitter-filled balloons (hey, they were fun to pop!) that hung everywhere, streamers that went along the roof and along the walls, and I had shaped some rose-like flowers from the crepe paper rolls that I'd learned to make as a kid, and placed them around the banner hanging on the front wall of the room. Festive enough, I decided. I helped them drag in a table and chairs after the room was set up.

Our fellow New Directions members started arriving around 5:30 PM. First one to show up was Brittany, followed by Puck, Mike, Matt, Santana and Finn. Quinn arrived last. All of them bore wrapped up presents of all shapes and sizes. Hell, Mike's and Artie's gifts looked big enough to fit a medium-sized Collie. It made me feel inadequate about what I was giving her. Nevertheless, I got my gift out of the car and put it on a table in the corner of the living room with all the other packages. Puck brought with him three cases of beer and that had made Tina panic.

"What the hell is that?" she asked, shocked.

"Beer," he said simply.

"My parents are gonna be here. They'll kill me if they see this," she said quickly. "Hide it in my bedroom."

"But they're not gonna be here the whole time, are they?" he asked, annoyed. "Is this gonna be one of those lame parties where the parents are breathing down our necks?"

"No, of course not," she said, the annoyance in her voice matching his. "They're going to leave the house after I cut the cake. I convinced them to."

"Great," he grinned and carried the beer to her bedroom.

The cake cutting took place at around 7 PM. All of us sang to her when she cut it, the myriad of voices, each one striking in its own way, gave the song a beautiful life. Tina looked absolutely elated, and I felt happy for her. Some of us had been largely friendless before the family that was New Directions came into being, especially Tina. Everyone wanted to avoid the gothic Asian with the stutter. That was what made moments like this all the more memorable and lovely for us.

Tina's parents left soon after the eating and music had started. I had put together a special playlist of party songs that consisted mostly of Lady GaGa and Madonna tracks, and their remixes. The cake was a delicious flavor; lemon tart, Tina told me. We danced to the music and sang along for a little while. The guys grew tired of the non-alcoholic beverages soon enough and the beer was brought out. I, of course, didn't even touch it, and the girls seemed repulsed at the sight of it, but to the guys it might as well have been Ambrosia; nectar of the gods. I rolled my eyes at that. Santana and Brittany had insisted that Tina unwrap the gifts, but Tina had politely declined, saying that that seemed "too Christmasy," and took all the presents to her bedroom, so the people had to busy them in different activities. Puck, Finn, Mike and Matt started playing "Drink Poker" which, Puck claimed, was like Strip Poker, only one had to drink instead of get naked. I distanced myself from them and seated myself on one of the chairs next to the main table in the living room. I saw the three Cheerios dancing to the songs on one side and near to them, Artie, Mercedes and Tina were chatting. It was an odd combination of people, I thought, but they all seemed so comfortable with the surroundings that one could never find a fault with it. Finn didn't say anything to me the whole time and it gave me a sense of detachment from the party. I just wanted to go home.

I was sitting alone and thinking about something that did not concern any of my friends. I felt disorganized in my head, while only a moment ago, I'd felt so at home. Now everything seemed out of place. I realized that everything would go back to normal once Finn I talked things through. That seemed so unlikely. But I just sat there, and no one paid attention to the lonely fashionista sitting in the middle of the room pondering over thinks that he shouldn't...

One of the things I understand is that the universe never grows any less interesting, the person simply gets used to it. Consider a baby who sees a cat or a dog for the first time. The child squeals in delight and imitates the sounds that the animals make. We have seen a cat and a dog countless times in our lives so our experience is one of less enthusiasm than the child. But what causes that difference in reaction? It simply has to do with habit. While experience is very valuable in certain cases, it makes the act itself less fun and less interesting. But one thing is certain, the universe and the creatures in it remain every bit as fascinating, we simply lose a sense of wonderment. From this we can deduce one thing; a first time experience is the most valuable, thought-provoking, and interesting. Our lives would be a lot more exciting if we could hold on to that sense of amazement, and repeat it every time we watch an eclipse, or have sex, or hear a story. But the human mind is passive when it comes to learning, and everything becomes habit even if we don't want it to. And that, consequently, leads to taking things for granted. Would I have gotten used to Finn? Would I have taken him for granted? Probably so. The first time I fell in love with him, it was certainly exhilarating. But I do fear that I've gotten somewhat used to it over time. And that's the realistic kind of love, not the fictional kind of I-fall-in-love-with-you-every-single-day love…

Mercedes was the one to talk to me and snap me out of my thoughts. "Yo, Kurt, what's wrong?"

"Uhh, nothing. Why did you guys turn off the music?"

"It's almost ten thirty," she said. "We don't know when Tina's parents are gonna come back but we do need to help Tina clean up."

"All right…"

"We should get going," Quinn announced from the poker table where the girls had gone to play at some point in the time I was thinking. Where was Finn?

"Okay," Tina said and walked towards. "Thanks so much for coming, guys."

"No problem. It was pretty fun," Santana said cheerfully, a side that she didn't show very often.

Tina hugged every single one of them, and they started to leave. Mike offered to stay and help clean up but Tina politely turned him down, and gave him a hug as a show of her appreciation. He left with a smile plastered on his face. Weird, I thought. I still didn't see Finn.

"Hey, Kurt," I heard Puck say from behind me.

I turned. "Yes?"

"It's Finn. He… Uhh… Drank more than he should've… A lot more," Puck said seriously. "He's pretty drunk. So I told him to lie down in Tina's room."

I sighed. "Okay, thanks."

"How are things between you and him now?" he asked. I hadn't talked to him since the incident at school.

"He won't talk to me," I said gravely.

"Give him a little time. He doesn't hate you. He kept looking at you the whole time you were sitting there alone in the room," he said with a little smile, patted me on the back and started walking to the door. "See ya."

"'Bye," I called after him. Was it true? My mood improved considerably.

I went into Tina's room to see Finn lying on the couch with his eyes closed. He didn't know I'd come or maybe he was pretending not to know. Either way, I didn't say anything. I'd get to him after helping with cleaning up. It took us about thirty minutes to take the dishes to the kitchen, remove the decorations, and throw away the beer cans. Artie had to leave halfway through, saying that he had a curfew. Tina suggested that we go home and she would do the dishes but Mercedes was persistent that the Birthday Girl "sit her ass down" and that Mercedes and I would take care of that. After the dishes were done and put away, I went to Tina's bedroom and dragged Finn out into the living room.

"As you can see, ladies," I announced. "This guy can't drive."

They gave him a sympathetic look.

"I'm going to take him home in my car," I told them. "Tina, is it all right if we leave his car here? He'll come get it tomorrow."

"Sure, don't worry about it," said and walked up to me. She hugged me and kissed me on the cheek, and I could swear I smelled a familiar perfume on her. "Thanks for coming and all the help."

"Don't mention it," I said, like I always did. "Bye, Mercedes!"

"Later," she said.

I grabbed my coat, and told Finn to follow me and he did. The weather was pleasant outside, with a gentle breeze.

"I don't need your help," he said irritably. I rolled my eyes.

"You won't be able to drive to the next block without hitting a few people," I shot back. "Just get in the car."

"Fine," he called loudly and got into the car, while I held the door open for him.

I didn't let him turn on the radio. "I have a headache, Finn."

"You're stupid."

"Wow, Finn, that was such a witty retort," I said, and the sarcasm was obviously lost on him. He was talking to me after all these days and this was the attitude he had?

A few minutes later he spoke again. "I'm sorry I ignored you."

"You think those few words are enough?"

He answered a few seconds later. "I was just... They'd laugh at me, Kurt... They'd pick on me..."

I took a deep breath. "We should talk about this when you're more lucid."

He didn't reply. I looked at him to see that his cheek was pressed against the glass of the door window.

Home came a few minutes later. We got out of my car, and I walked to the door with Finn slowly following behind. The lights were off on the bottom floor, and the light in the upstairs bedroom was off, too. Dad and Carole were sleeping. I prayed that they wouldn't come down here to check up. I went inside and turned on the light bulb. I took off my coat and hung it on the coat rack by the door. We had to be absolutely quiet. But then, as if to drop insult on that thought, Finn stumbled against the doorstep and fell on the wooden floor with a loud thud.

"Shut up," I hissed. "If Dad and Carole come down here and see you drunk, there's going to be hell to pay."

He cursed and got up.

I sighed. "You shouldn't drink more than you can tolerate, Finn," I said. "Or at all, for that matter,"

We reached the stairs that went down into our bedroom. I put his arm around my shoulder to help him down so he wouldn't fall and, you know, crack his skull open. Because that would simply elevate this whole mess of an evening to a whole new level of unpleasant. Not to mention that having Finn's chest against my side was stirring something inside of me that I hadn't felt in days; a sexual urge.

Getting Finn to the bottom of the stairs took more effort that I'd thought, though. He was heavy. I let go of him when we descended the stairs. I turned on the light. There was nothing I wanted more than to just fall on my bed and sleep. Finn, however, grabbed my forearm and pushed me on his bed. I was going to lash out at him before he fell on top of me. That wasn't pleasant. His weight knocked the wind out of me.

"What the hell, Finn?" I managed to breathe out, and tried to push him off. He didn't budge.

He positioned his mouth near my ear, and whispered slowly, "I want to fuck you."

And despite the exhaustion, the irritation, the alcohol on his breath and the awkward position, I shivered. "W-what?"

He didn't answer, but reached his hand over to his nightstand, pulled the drawer open and started rummaging through it. He didn't even look towards the drawer; his eyes were fixed onto mine. That's when he crashed his lips against mine. It wasn't a sensual kiss. In fact, I didn't like it; it was harsh, and only lasted for a second. I tried to get out from underneath him. His hand emerged from the drawer and I wasn't entirely sure what to feel when I saw that he was holding a condom packet.

"We can't do that right now, Finn," I said uncertainly and made another attempt to push him off. Why was he so damn heavy?

"Yes, we can," he mumbled, sat up on my thighs, and started unbuttoning his shirt.

"I don't… Know about this… Finn," I managed to verbalize. "You're really drunk."

His shirt came off easily, and I was just short of drooling. He put his lips to my ear again. "I thought you always wanted this. I thought you wanted me to fuck your brains out."

I involuntarily shivered every time he said the word 'fuck'.

"Are you even-" I broke off when he started nibbling on my earlobe. I gasped. "… Listening to yourself?"

"I want you," he said and started unbuckling my belt. I clutched his wrist, and shook my head. I wanted him so badly, but this was going too fast. This morning we weren't even talking and now he wanted to have sex with me? This was obviously the effect of the alcohol.

He forcefully released his arm and opened the button and fly of my pants. My resistance was crumbling away against my lust and Finn's persistence. He put his fingers under the waistband of my boxers and pulled them down along with my pants, down to my ankles. I kicked off my shoes and Finn removed the pants completely. It felt strange to be undressed by someone else, but I was mesmerized watching Finn's muscular arms working on my clothes. He took off his own pants and climbed over me once again. The sight of Finn's completely naked form, balanced above my body made blood rush to my nether regions. He pushed up the hem of my shirt up to my chest and ran both his hands over my body, before grabbing my erection and stroking it twice. I moaned loudly, and I couldn't help but wrap a leg around his waist and pull him closer. I rubbed my foot over his butt cheeks and there was something so erotic to me about that gesture that I groaned subconsciously.

I found myself enjoying the whole thing, even with the lack of the romance and the passion. My first time wasn't going to be in a room with dim lighting, scented candles, us on a bed covered with rose petals on red sheets… Red, the color of lust… No. My first time was going to be this crude, rough sex. And it felt as erotic as my fantasy. This was real and physical, not something soft out of my imagination.

He had the condom rolled on to his erection, and was sitting between my legs. I could feel his hard-on against my thigh. Finn was leaning over me, looking at my lips. Odd place to look, Finn, I thought. He looked very lucid now. He raised my leg and moved his erection from my thigh to his destination and started rubbing along it. That made me uncomfortable. No preparation and no lubrication?

"Finn, we need lube," I whispered.

What he did then both surprised and upset me. He put my leg over his shoulder, and spit on his raging condom-covered erection. The lack of foreplay was simply appalling to me. He was about to push inside when I wanted to move away, but then he grabbed my throbbing member, stroked it, and my resistance melted away.

He entered me slowly, and I gasped at the pain. I felt like I couldn't stretch anymore to let him in but he kept sliding inside. It was odd, and there was a sharp pain every time he pushed a little farther in, but the pain wasn't unbearable. I kept hoping it would dissolve into pleasure. He stopped midway, and then pulled back out. Another look at my lips, and I wondered why he kept looking there. My leg was starting to slide off his shoulder when he grabbed it and put it back up before entering me a second time. This time he pushed all the way inside and I cried out in pain, and he stopped. Finn didn't move for a few seconds and neither did I. I was still trying to get used to the feeling, when he slid halfway out and pushed back in again. Okay, this time it didn't hurt as much, I thought. He started slowly pulling back and pushing in repeatedly, forming a slow rhythm. I would get used to a certain speed before he'd speed up a little and it would hurt again.

He was speeding up his movements after a few moments of slow thrusts. The pain, however, was melting into pleasure with every movement of his hips, and I was actually beginning to moan in pleasure. All of this felt a little strange with my shirt on and just pulled up to my chest, but I imagined it probably turned him on, otherwise he would have taken it off. I was under his control, he was commanding the situation. I liked being submissive like this. He grunted with every drive. I was beginning to feel that Finn's pleasure was building to the climax. He rammed me hard and hit a certain spot which made me scream out with pleasure. I immediately began to worry about whether someone upstairs would hear, before Finn slowed down and leaned in to kiss me hard. It was the first sensual kiss since this whole thing had started and I felt myself immediately get addicted to the feel of his rough mouth, even it did taste unpleasant right then.

"Oh, God, Finn... Fuck me hard again," I said pushing against him, after deciding that sex was no time for etiquette. "Go fast again."

He obliged with a grunt and sped up again. I realized that he was simply prolonging the moment by slowing down, because as soon as he sped up he started moaning uncontrollably. I could see him spasm and he made a few irregular thrusts before he slammed into me hard and came into the condom. I let out a surprised moan. It was an odd feeling. He made a few more thrusts before he laid down his body on top of me, his softening member still inside of me. We were both panting heavily, and for a few seconds I couldn't think straight. Had I just had sex with Finn Hudson?

He slid out of me with a light pop, and fell on the bed next to me. He pulled the condom off, hurling it on the floor. All through that time, I realized that my own still throbbing dick had been neglected. There was no subtle way to point this out.

"Finn, I want to cum so badly," I whispered desperately.

He looked at my hard pink member. It was oozing precum. I wanted him to touch it, and to stroke it. But what he did went on a whole different level. He leaned forward and put it in his mouth. A loud, involuntary moan escaped my mouth and my body trembled in pleasure. He moved his mouth up and down the shaft, paying attention to the tip of my member with his tongue. I was gasping and moaning uncontrollably, urging him to go faster, and he did. My hips bucked off the bed and I could feel the orgasm coming at me. He sped up even more, gripping the base of my cock with his hand. I didn't know whether he wanted me to ejaculate into his mouth or not, so I spoke.

"Finn... I-" I gasped. "I'm gonna... Ahh...!"

He understood what I was trying to convey, and took his mouth off. His hand stroked me harder and in seconds I was shooting the hardest orgasm of my life. It landed on my stomach, chest, and even reached up to my shirt. I shook and moaned, while Finn kept up the strokes. Moments later my semi-erect member was too sensitive to this and my body twitched when he ran his hand over the tip before letting it go. He took his position beside me on the bed, and kissed my neck. I didn't move, simply because I couldn't if I tried.

A few minutes went by while I tried to process what had actually happened. Finn fell asleep naked. I decided to get off the bed and clean the mess up.

I also needed to lock the door.

* * *

**In case your wondering, yes, the sex scene was intended to be that foreplay-less. The first time is never perfect, you know. ;] R&Rs!**


	12. A Loaded Smile

**Thank you, Justin Murad, for being the inspiration behind this chapter. :) Enjoy, everyone!  
**

* * *

I woke up the next morning and rushed to sit up straight. I reached my hands under the covers and was strangely relieved to find my pajamas still on. A look around the room registered that Finn was asleep on his bed, on his stomach, wearing just a pair of sweat pants. I'd put those on him – with difficulty, I might add – last night after he'd fallen asleep on me. I picked up my phone to check the time. Nine AM. I was glad I didn't sleep in. There were a few texts messages, but I didn't want to check them now. I felt like I would burst if I didn't hurry to the bathroom. I ran. After emptying out my bladder, I picked out some clothes, and took a quick warm shower. I was trying as much as possible to block out the thoughts of last night. I undeniably enjoyed it, but the talking and thinking that followed was something I feared. I wanted to avoid it, at least until Finn woke up. I actually didn't want to think about it alone. I needed his support, while he was carelessly sleeping away.

I walked back into the room. Finn was flipping on to his side. I sighed, and walked over to my nightstand to check the text messages. A weather forecast, and a Forex message that I had mistakenly subscribed to and had to cancel, but always forgot about.

_"Coach Sylvester wants u to come today 4 a cheerios thing. Be at school at 10.30," _a text from Santana, that was timed last night, read. Why couldn't she have told me this at the party?

It was just like her to leave an arrogantly vague message.

"Kurt…" I heard Finn drone.

I froze. Crap, it was here: the dreaded moment. A million thoughts ran through my head. I swallowed. "Good morning, Finn."

"…Aspirin…"

"Huh? Oh, okay."

I opened the drawer of my nightstand and found a blister pack of aspirin. Finn tried to sit up while I dissolved two in a glass of water. He drank it in two gulps and fell back on the bed, eyes closed. Oh, great, now he had a hangover.

This was definitely going to be a long day.

Concern washed over the nervousness, though. I had to help Finn feel better, I couldn't go to the parents about this, but I had no idea how to cure hangovers, so I did what every teenager does when they're at a loss: Google it. A search revealed that I needed to keep him away from caffeine, give him orange juice to replenish his vitamins – or something; I didn't read the whole article – and then throw him in the shower. Easy enough, I decided. I was back with juice and cereal in ten minutes. Finn was still lying there but his eyes were open. I set the tray beside him on the bed.

"Eat up, Finn, and take a shower," I said. "You'll feel better."

He sat up and started on the food. I tried to busy myself in front of my vanity, but I couldn't. It wasn't possible to focus when I could see Finn in the mirror, sitting behind me, shirtless. Images from last night bombarded my brain, and I couldn't help but tremble reminiscing about the ecstasy I experienced under his experienced administrations. But right now he seemed… distant.

After a few minutes he got up, grabbed some clothes from the cupboard without really looking them over, and dragged himself to the bathroom. I could just stare. When he emerged, he was wearing jeans and a black-striped white dress shirt, as per his style. He sat on his bed and set his eyes on me. I swirled my chair around and thought about what to say.

I couldn't take the silence anymore. "Aren't we going to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?" he asked quizzically. He took my serious attitude as something else. "Am I in trouble?"

"No, of course you're not but… What we did last night…" Now I was confused. Was he avoiding the topic? Finn wasn't a very good liar. It would give away soon if he was trying to fib.

"Oh. Did we make out?" he asked uncertainly with a hint of fear in his voice.

"No, Finn there was no making out," I said slowly with narrowed eyes. I didn't want to be blunt about this.

"Oh, thank God," he said, and seemed relieved that there was nothing sexual involved.

Then it dawned on me that Finn didn't have a recollection of what happened. "What do you remember from last night?"

"We were at Tina's for her birthday… We played poker, I drank and then I think I passed out…"

"And _where_ do you think you passed out?"

"I don't know, maybe here, maybe at her place."

"... I have to go," I said finally, and got up to leave.

"What's wrong? Don't start crying!"

"It's nothing," I said without looking at him and wiped away the tears forming in my eyes. I had to keep my voice leveled. "I have to go to school, for Cheerios' practice."

He rubbed his temples. "Fine…"

I hurriedly put on my shoes and ran to the car. That's when the tears really started flowing.

* * *

"As you all are aware - and I don't care if you're not - the cheerleading inter-school competition across the state is being held early this year," announced Coach Sylvester to the Cheerios sitting in the basketball court. "This is a level five crap storm. You know why? Because the event is scheduled a mere two weeks after the classes start."

We all waited for her to continue while she gave us scathing looks.

"Our routine needs to be up to par. Heads will roll if we lose this, because there is a chance that it will be broadcast on TV. It is therefore imperative that we win. Also, Ladyvoice," she said looking in my direction. "You sing higher than I think healthy and sometimes you outright screech but you've got the pipes and the lungs. We need you to perform so frighteningly well that it tears the opponent team a new one. Is that understood?"

I nodded. Everyone else nodded.

"You're all dismissed. I want you in uniforms first thing tomorrow morning."

We all scrambled to our feet and hurried out of the court and into the ground.

"Why isn't Quinn with you two, today?" I asked Santana, and eyed Quinn who was sitting on the bleachers, alone.

"She has nodules, and the doctor ordered total vocal rest," said Santana sympathetically, and then looked me in the eye. "But it's not like she'd have anything to say to you, anyway."

"How can she have a piece of a computer in her throat?" Brittany asked thoughtfully.

"A what?" Santana gave her a look.

"That's what a nodule is, right…"

"I think she means 'module', Santana," I interrupted.

"Oh. A nodule is a voice thing, Brit."

"It's hard enough remembering the routine," Brittany said tiredly. "Don't tell me new words."

I rolled my eyes. "Anyway, I'll see you later," I said and walked away from the clueless duo.

There wasn't much to do in school. I could watch the Cheerios perform, but that didn't really concern me. I didn't want to go home, either. I couldn't face Finn, not until I sorted things out in my head.

I really loved Finn. And now for him to just… _fuck_ me when he was drunk was completely immoral of him. I had really considered last night to have been a form of his love. And to learn that he had only done it under the effect of alcohol, and to have no memory of it, was a brutal hit to my love and respect for him. Was it really true, then; that a purely sexual contact was detrimental to the life of 'true love'? All the rational ways of life pointed to it. Religion called it the sin of 'lust' and recommended that we avoid it, and in philosophy, Plato stressed the importance of 'Platonic love', but all of those things pointed to essentially the same concept: purely sexual desires can be harmful to the soul, unless there was love or friendship to back them up. Last night I had had an orgasm, but that's all it was; ejaculation. It was nothing like the state of Nirvana that the aesthetics and the philosophers talked about. Maybe friendship was the real kind of love. I had screwed up giving into my physical desires. I should have known better. If Finn was going to forget what we did then we might as well have done nothing at all; at least it wouldn't hurt this badly.

Thinking…

"Hey," said a soft but thick voice from behind me. I turned.

"Hello," I replied, looking at him up and down, as I often did with a critical glance. Standing in front of me was a tall, blond-haired guy in the McKinley football uniform. He was gorgeous, I thought, with the casual expression on his face and his hair on his forehead that he reached up to swipe to the side.

"You're the male singer in the cheerleaders, right? I'm Sam Evans," he said with a smile, showing his perfect teeth. He reached out his hand.

I took his hand and shook it. It was firm but not hard, kind of like Finn's but a little softer. He was very charismatic. "Charmed. Yes, I'm on the Cheerios… My name's Kurt."

For a few seconds neither of us spoke. I kept trying not to stare at him and he looked straight at me unabashedly. He could have left after the introductions were done, but he didn't, so that must mean he wanted to talk to me. But I didn't want to get my hopes up. I forced myself to break the uncomfortable silence. "I haven't seen you around here before. You're on the football team?"

I mentally smacked myself for saying that. He was obviously on the team, because why else would he be wearing the uniform? And why did I want to impress this handsome stranger so desperately?

He smiled. "I transferred here from Caramel High. Last week when I came here to finalize the paper work, I saw that the team had practices in the summer and decided to try out. It was easy to get in."

"And you transferred here from Caramel because…?"

"Oh, well, they didn't have a good sports program. Show choir is everything they focus on, and those Vocal Adrenaline students aren't nice people."

"You won't have that problem here, you're… uhm…" Crap, I'd almost said something about his good looks. Why was I talking without thinking? Damage control. "The people here are nice."

He gave me a strange look, but then smiled. "Yeah, I know."

More uneasy silence ensued. I wasn't entirely sure what was going on, or why I was making small talk with this beautiful person who was likely never to speak to me again once the classes started and he learnt the ways of this school: he was a regulation hottie and for him to socialize with show choir nerds was like social suicide. And yet, there was something about him, besides the charm and the appeal. He didn't seem like the usual run-of-the-mill egotistical football jock. I turned my head to the side to see Brittany and Santana interestedly eyeing our exchange from a distance. I could imagine that all the girls on the Cheerios would want a piece of the hot new guy.

"So… Can I have your number?" he said quickly, and my eyes shot straight to his. He seemed embarrassed. "… You know, because I'm trying to make some new friends here, and… You don't have to if you don't want to."

The calm demeanor of his was slipping away, but I didn't see any reason for him to be nervous. "I want to," I said as earnestly as possible.

He smirked. He seemed like a very, very positive kind of person; he smiled a lot. "Cool. Well, I don't have my phone with me, it's in my bag," he said apologetically.

"No problem. Give me your number, I'll send a text," I said coolly, but I was feeling oddly giddy inside.

He did. The team was called inside just then, so he turned to leave. He flashed another dazzling smile and waved, and calmly walked away. My mood was very much improved after that interesting little exchange. I was curious to get to know this boy. Plus, I had something to think about that wasn't related to Finn. I also needed to be stronger when it came to Finn; I always let him hurt me too easily. If I look at it from his point of view, it wasn't entirely his fault. But I knew that I couldn't see it from his eyes, and there it was again; the limitation of perspective. I had my own opinion about the matter and I'd stick to it. I'd go home and face Finn head-on if he said something to hurt me. I also needed to think of a way to talk to Sam without seeming too eager.

It might not be such a long day after all.

* * *

**Thanks for reading. :] Do review with any comments/criticisms/suggestions you may have.**


	13. First

Sam and I went on three dates. It started like this...

* * *

The bathtub filled up while I removed my clothes. I tossed the shirt, pants, and underwear on the floor, next to the tub. I looked over my unclothed form in the mirror above the sink. The mirror only reflected my torso. I thoroughly examined my reflection and gasped when I saw a reddening pimple on my cheek, about a centimeter from the side of my nose. This needed fixing. I was really pale, I thought, but I didn't want to tan myself. The natural reddish tint on my skin looked good, I believed, but it was sort of narcissistic of me to say about myself. I ran my hands through my hair, and decided that I'd trim my armpit hair sometime this week. I added some bath salt to the hot water in the tub. It wasn't enough, though. The fragrance wasn't strong enough so I added a few drops from the bottles of essential oils I kept in my bathroom 'beauty set'.

A few minutes later the bathroom was filled with light steam and I couldn't see myself in the mirror anymore. I climbed into the warm water and it felt heavenly. It had been over a week since I'd had a bath like this; usually I just took a shower. I closed my eyes. I could stay this way for a long time, I thought.

Just then, _It's Like That _by Mariah started playing, loudly. It took me a moment to realize that the sound was coming from near me. Crap, my phone was ringing. I hadn't left it in the bedroom; it was in the pocket of my pants. I didn't move. Just go away, I thought. It kept ringing, though, and then went quiet. I didn't have voicemail activated, and it started ringing again after a few seconds. I sighed, and reached out to fish the offending phone out of my pants.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Kurt," came the cheerful voice of Sam from the phone. "Why weren't you picking up?"

"I'm kinda… Taking a bath," I said cautiously. I didn't have to tell him that, but I found it hard to be anything but completely honest with Sam. This was the first time he was calling me since we'd exchanged numbers.

"Oh, I'm sorry, then," he said, embarrassment evident in his voice.

"Is everything all right, though?"

"Yeah, yeah," he said quickly. "I'll talk to you later?"

"No, tell me why you called," I said. I was beyond curious.

"This is a little weird to ask…"

"Tell me, Sam," I said quite seriously.

"Do you want to… Hang out, sometimes? Just the two of us," he finished quietly.

I couldn't help but smile. "You mean like a… date?"

"Only if you're okay with it," he said hesitantly.

"Of course I am!" I said louder than necessary. "When?"

"I was hoping maybe tonight. I'll come to pick you up at eight?"

"I'd love that," I said, grinning from ear to ear.

"Just text me your address…"

"Sure."

"So… I'll leave you to your bath then," he said awkwardly after a few seconds of pause.

"Yes," I answered distractedly. I was too busy thinking about what I would wear to my date. "And Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks," I said softly. "I'm glad you asked."

He chuckled. "My pleasure. 'Bye."

"Goodbye," I said dreamily.

I let my phone drop on the pile of clothes on the floor, and sunk a little lower in the water. I took a deep, deep breath, and giggled. The left the warm water surrounding me and inhaled the sweet smell of lavender and rosewood. The physical feeling was incredible, heightened by the thought of going out with Sam. He and I had only talked over text once or twice. Maybe he thought it was too upfront to ask so immediately, but I didn't really think so. He seemed like a gentleman. I'd never thought of him as into guys, though. Guys like him (the usual cool, hot jocks) usually picked up the nearest blonde cheerleader, or at least in our school. But he was full of surprises, wasn't he…

After I felt like my skin had absorbed all the water it could, I got out. The water had gotten a little colder too. After drying myself off, I put on a pair of black skinny jeans – I needed to show off a little anatomy to Sam, of course – paired with a pin striped white shirt and a black vest. I wondered if he'd like it, though. I didn't even know if he was fashion-conscious or not. The only time I'd met him, he was in a football uniform.

Finn was in the room when I went out of the bathroom. He was sitting in front of my Macbook and didn't look up. I sat myself on a chair in front of the vanity and turned on the straightening iron. I looked at him through the mirror but his eyes were glued to the screen. After a little while of straightening my hair and putting on hairspray, I put on concealer on the pimple I'd found earlier. I was in the process of applying perfume when he looked up and spoke.

"Are you going somewhere?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Because you're putting on more perfume than ever."

"Oh. Yes, I am."

He didn't ask where I was going, he didn't say anything.

"On a date," I said, slowly.

"Is that so?" It was more of a statement.

He didn't bother to enquire as to whom I was going with, and I didn't want to talk to him when he evidently didn't want to talk. His eyes turned back to the computer and I sighed inaudibly. I put on socks and shoes and went into the living room. The next hour I decided to kill watching TV.

* * *

Sam was delightful. He did those 'little things' that seemed so charming. He opened the car door for me, something that I thought Finn would never have the courtesy to do. It made me feel oddly feminine, though; maybe because Sam exhibited that 'straight guy' vibe so much. On the ride there, we talked about music. That was all I wanted to talk about. He seemed content, so the conversation flowed. His tastes and mine were a little different, with him preferring rock music over show tunes. He was confident in his mannerisms and stride, and he looked into my eyes whenever we faced each other. Like he had nothing to hide.

"So why did you ask me out?" I questioned him as soon as we sat down in the diner.

He fixed his gray dress shirt and smiled. "Is that something you ask on all your dates?"

"I don't really-" I paused. This had to go another way. I should be making the queries. I forced a smile on my face. "Please, answer the question."

"You're asking it like you question my motives," he said and cocked his head to side lightly. Adorable.

"No, no," I rushed to say. Wait – why did I always lose my cool like that? "It's nothing like that…"

"What'll you be having?" he smoothly changed the topic and gestured to the waiter.

That surprised me. I ordered anyway. He ordered a meatloaf and fried chicken for us, with soda, and I ordered an avocado shake.

"I simply can not eat all this food," I said shaking my head.

"I'll be helping you out," he remarked with a grin.

I just stared at him.

"I'm sorry, by the way, for not taking you somewhere fancier. I realize this must not be the best first impression," he said, in a really apologetic tone.

"What? No! This is great," I said and put my hand on his.

We didn't talk much during dinner. He mostly wanted to know about school, classes, the students and the student programs. He was surprised when I told him that Finn lived at my place. Finn hadn't told him at practice, I understood. He hadn't known about our parents' relationship. So basically Sam was under the impression that I didn't know Finn personally. I told him he and I shared a room – just to see how he'd react - and he made a face. I also told him about New Directions and how we had all come together to make this group of diverse people with a single passion. He seemed impressed.

"I'm not a good singer, though," he said when I asked him to try out.

"You don't have to be. Brittany, Santana and Quinn weren't singers when they joined, they were cheerleaders. You can always learn. You have a nice speaking voice."

"Wow, thanks," he said, blushing a little. "You have to sing for me sometime."

It was my turn to blush. "I don't know about that… I…"

"I'm sure I'll love it," he said and winked.

I blushed harder and went back to my food. This boy was a little _too_ nice in a too-good-to-be-true kind of manner.

* * *

I looked at my wrist watch when the car stopped outside my house. Ten thirty PM. I straightened my coat and was about to open the door when Sam opened it for me from the outside. It was strange being treated like this, I'm not sure if I enjoyed it all that much. Sure, it was very courteous and gentlemanly of him… But it was also overly formal and something I couldn't get used to. I'd ask him not to do that again the next time… If there was going to be a next time. I could always wish.

"So what do we do? What do two people do at this point of the date?" I asked him, and not a little seductively.

"Well, we could always kiss goodbye," he said, his eyes looking into mine. I was surprised at how frank we had grown in just one evening.

"You expect me to give it all away on the first date, Sam Evans?" I asked in mock surprise and winked at him.

He laughed. "Okay, then, I'll try again the next time."

I was going to laugh but accidentally snorted. My hand shot up to cover my mouth.

Sam couldn't help but giggle and soon we were both laughing. What was so funny, I didn't know, but it felt really good to laugh with him, without a care or worry.

I hugged him, and over his shoulder I saw Finn sitting in the window, glaring at us. Strange.

I bid him goodbye and rushed to my room. I really didn't want any drama. The evening had been far too nice.

And hence concluded the first small date.


	14. Second

**Hello, Gleeks! In the joy of the second season premier in just hours, enjoy this new chapter. :] **

* * *

The second date happened on a Wednesday night. It was nine PM and I was standing over the ironing board tirelessly getting every single wrinkle out of each article of clothing I would possibly wear for the next week. My iPod was blasting a catchy song by Ke$ha into my ears, and I was lightly dancing along to the beat while ironing. Finn was behind me, on the sofa, watching TV. He hadn't tried to make any sort of conversation so I had busied myself in work to avoid any awkward silences in his company. Why was it always that I was the one feeling the awkwardness and not him? He acted as if it were totally natural for him to not talk to me for hours – and whenever he _did_ talk was to either inform me that food was ready or to ask if the food was ready. That pretty much summed up all the conversation I had had with him that day.

He got up, suddenly, and went to open the door. I turned down the volume on the music player. He returned after a few seconds with a weird look on his face.

"It's Sam, he's asking for you." He might as well have spat the words out.

"Oh my God, you didn't even invite him inside?" I said, shocked.

"Nope. You can go to the door, can't you?" he said irritated, and went back to watching TV.

"What's wrong with you?" I gave him a look. I put the iron straight up, pocketed my iPod, and rushed to the door, making sure to plaster on a smile before I opened the door.

He was wearing a white t-shirt with a thick diagonal black stripe across it, with form-fitting black jeans that almost made me drool.

"Sam…" I said with a grin.

"Hey, Kurt," he grinned back.

A few seconds passed before I snapped out of my thoughts about the perfect shape of certain parts of his body (Oh, God, his arms!) and I remembered I was being rude by staring. "I'm sorry," I said quickly. "Do come in."

"No, thank you. I'm here for something else."

"And what might that be?" Though I had some idea already.

"I'm taking you out, of course," he said, once again displaying the perfect dentistry.

"Um, sure, where are we going?"

"Well, we could get something to eat."

"But it's late, I already ate dinner," I said apologetically.

"That's fine," he rushed to say. "We can get straight to what I really had in mind."

"Which is…? And – I'm sorry - this is turning really long for a doorstep conversation. Come in! I feel weird."

He laughed. "It's no problem, Kurt. Honestly," he said and then continued, "Just come on."

He winked and started walking towards his car. I rushed inside to grab my phone, and as a last thought, turned the iron off before hurrying out after him.

* * *

He stopped the car in front of a park. It was the central park of Lima that went largely unnamed. Easily the biggest public ground in the city, one side held a playground area. Mostly there were small trees and bushes and a jogging track extended through the park. It was surprising, though, how much money and effort the local authorities put into the maintenance of the place, even if it was a popular place for the residents of Lima to hang out.

We got out of the car. I'd never been to the place at night and it seemed more beautiful than it did in the day. The moonlight made the silvery texture of the benches glow softly and the Queen of the Night emanated a strong but beautiful scent that seemed to complete the vision of the place. It was largely empty though I did see a young couple sitting on one of the benches talking happily. Sam took me to a small clearing by the side of the jogging track and stopped.

"We'll lie down here," he said, sat down and crossed his legs.

"On the grass?" I asked, surprised. "My clothes will be ruined."

"You're being dramatic," he said looking up at me. "Sit. I'll take care of anything that gets ruined."

Taking a deep breath, I sat down in front of him and crossed my legs, as well. My hands, I put beside me on the ground. The grass was cool and a nice, strong breeze was blowing. His blond hair was swaying with the wind, and he ran his fingers through it to keep it in check. Mine was probably not so animated, being held down by the liberal amounts of organic hair mousse. Disheveled hair would look cute on him; it would look like a disaster on me.

He suddenly pulled my arm, and fell backwards. He landed on his back, while I squealed and dropped on top of him with the side of my face landing on his chest. My grunting only made him laugh. I didn't get back up, though. I rolled off him and onto the grass, uncaring then of the condition of my clothes. We were lying side by side, on our backs, and looking up at the starry sky. The moon was almost full and its light was covered everything like a blanket. I turned my head to look at Sam, and saw that he was already looking at me. I'd never done stargazing before, thinking it boring. I'd never had a reason to do it, anyway. But right now, with Sam, it seemed like the only thing I should be doing. He had a way of making moments seem perfect, something that Finn did rarely. The sky was dark, cloudless, and decorated with stars. And it was breathtaking, actually, if you really wondered about the beauty of nature and a night sky.

"So, do you do like it?" he whispered.

"Yes," I whispered back. "Because you're here."

Corners of his mouth rose to form that beautiful smile I loved.

I put my arm across Sam's chest and reach my face up to kiss his cheek, but only manage to pull up to his jaw. It was the first time we'd made contact like that. The sharp smell of his cologne filled my nose, and I prolonged what was supposed to be a small peck into a long kiss, just to smell him more. There was something about me and fragrances; I liked things that appealed to my nose, a little more than what appealed to my eyes. I imagined it was similar for everyone, that one out of the five senses was a little dominant. Some people like to feel, and some are visual. The slightly rough feel of his shaved face against my lips felt good. He sighed, and I guessed that he liked it.

"Suppose there was a star shooting in the sky right now…" he said thoughtfully.

"Mhm," I said, picturing the scenario.

"What would you wish for?"

"That's not a fair question," I looked up at him and smiled.

"Huh? How?" He gave me a puzzled look.

"Because there's not a real answer to that… Nobody knows what they really want," I said matter-of-factly. I rolled off him, onto the ground, and propped myself up on an elbow. He was staring at the sky. The blond locks on his forehead were pushed to the side, and it occurred to me that I didn't know how they felt to the touch.

"I don't follow. Don't confuse me," he said with a grin.

"Well… There is nothing that we want constantly throughout our life. If you ask a homeless person what he needs most in life, he'll say he wants a home. If you ask a person who hasn't eaten in three days, he'll say food. And if you ask an orphan what the most important thing in life is, he'll say a family. But once all those people get what they need, their basic necessities will change. Our needs depend on our situation," I said, and it was like the words were pouring out of me. I couldn't imagine talking about this with any of my other friends.

He stared at me with wide eyes.

"So if you ask me what I would wish for, it won't be fair because the answer might change the next minute," I said, slower now. Maybe I'd said too much? Maybe this much conversation was inappropriate for the occasion?

"… Whoa, Kurt…" he said breathily and sat up with his elbows on side. "You're like… Deep."

An involuntary blush came to my cheeks and I couldn't help but giggle. "If you say so, sir…"

He laughed and fell back on the ground. After a few seconds he reached up his hands, put them on my cheeks, and gently brought my face down towards his. My heartbeat sped up when our lips made contact. The little brush of my mouth against his made me shudder. There was still a little difference between our lips. He reached his tongue out and ran its tip against my lower lip and bottom row of teeth. It was odd; not a real kiss but the mere contact was driving me insane. He was teasing me. I forcibly crashed my lips against his and kissed him hungrily. He responded with a similar desire but putting one hand behind my head and wrapping the other around my back. We kept this up for what seemed like ages before I withdrew, panting. My heart felt like it would beat its way out of my chest and the lustful look Sam was giving me - with his lips parted - made me want to dive back in for another go.

I stopped myself, though. I didn't want to go too far too soon. I fell back down by his side, put my head back in that familiar spot on his chest, and my arm went around his abdomen. It wasn't entirely comfortable, this position, with the hard earth underneath me, I had to arch my neck a little higher, but it was well worth it, I decided, after he kissed the top of my head and put his arm on my back. I wasn't looking at the sky. I wasn't looking at anything particular; my eyes were fixed straight ahead.

"So aren't you ever going to sing for me?" he said tentatively.

"Hmm…" I thought over whether I should do it or not. I started running my fingers in circles on his chest. I could feel the firm muscles of his pecs under the tip of my fingers. Finally, I said, "I think I have the perfect song for the occasion."

"You don't say…"

"Oh, but I do."

"Which one is it?"

"_Underneath The Stars_," I said with a smile.

"I don't know it… Sing it for me…" he said softly.

"Here goes nothing…" I said and got off him. I laid myself beside him and took a deep breath.

_"One summer night, we ran away for a while,  
Laughing, we hurried beneath the sky,  
To an obscure place to hide that no one could find,  
And we drifted to another state of mind,  
And imagined I was yours and you were mine,  
As we lay upon the grass there in the dark."_

He was staring at me, and I could tell that he liked it by the look on his face. It was difficult singing lying down and I had to focus a little to control the breath support and hit the soft high notes that Mariah Carey had so mastered. I continued.

_"And we drifted to another place in time,  
And the feeling was so heady and sublime,  
As I lost my heart to you,  
There in the dark,  
Underneath the stars,  
Young love."_

The last note I did as I usually did, with some melismas in a soft tone to give the song a sense of finality. He gently took my hand and raised it to his lips.

"You just keep surprising me, don't you?" he whispered and kissed my hand.

His warm breath on the back of my hand made me shiver. I didn't answer.

I couldn't. All I could do was reposition myself on his chest and breathe in the scent he'd put on. I closed my eyes, and drifted away to a state of calm and bliss…

… Underneath the stars.

* * *

**Tell me how you liked it. ;)**


	15. Third

**Lemony chapter. :] Enjoy, Gleeks!  
**

* * *

The third date was less like a date and more like something out of my wet dreams.

* * *

"All right, show me what we have," called Coach Sylvester into her handheld loud speaker.

We'd been rehearsing this everyday for the last week. The Coach had been pressurizing me to come up with a song that a good, energetic routine could be made around. Her demand had been to choose an upbeat song, not a sappy ballad. Fast-paced songs weren't usually my thing; I preferred the slow, emotionally touching ballads. But a cheerleading routine can't be delivered around a slow song, so I decided to tap into my limited knowledge of edgy rock songs. Turned out that _Bad Influence_ by P!nk was a song I could fit comfortably into my range, with the abundant amount of high notes in the chorus, and it was upbeat and edgy enough to show off a more provocative side of the Cheerios.

It was not my concern how the Cheerios did their routine with the song; I was the singer and _they_ had to do whatever it took to make the performance look good surrounding the song. There weren't a lot of squads out there who had a vocalist to enhance their performance, so I was the object of value for them. They had whined and complained about not being able to do a routine to a rock song – they wanted me to do pop – but Coach Sylvester was adamant that they could use the challenge. So here we were, trying to show her the final cut of the performance.

We were in the basketball court, where we usually did the practicing with songs. The acoustics of the large room were surprisingly good; my voice didn't drown out or echo. There wasn't much of an audience, a few guys off the football team who were the boyfriends of some of the Cheerios' girls. Jacob was sitting there with a notepad, for God knows what reasons, because what news could be possibly gather from rehearsals? Finn wasn't there, but Sam was, and that was what made me nervous. I couldn't help but think that there was a certain standard – an image of sorts – that Sam had of me, and I had to live up to it. Because isn't there always that one deep rooted insecurity that one has when in a relationship? That there were better singers, better thinkers and better-looking people out there, and what would prevent him for going for them? I had to try my very best in everything I did around him. It was exhausting, to tell the truth, but it was well worth it in the end if he would see me better than anyone else.

As for the performance, the music was beginning. The band wasn't going to come to interact with the performance; they were playing the instruments from the side. The arrangement was completely Coach Sylvester's idea. Two girls and one guy from the squad would be in the front with me, to add some animation to my singing, while the rest of the Cheerios performed their routine behind and besides me. The whole thing would seem disconnected if the Cheerios hadn't been so trained to improvise all the time. Everyone took their places. I adjusted my microphone and the in-ear monitor, took a deep breath and, when my cue came, started.

"_Oh,_ _I'm the instigator of underwear,  
Showing up here and there,  
I'm always on a mission from the get-go,  
So what if it's only 1 o'clock in the afternoon?  
It's never too soon to send out all the invitations to the last night of your life!"_

I pumped my fist on the last words, and the dancers and I jumped up and down. I bumped hips with the girl on my left. The three Cheerios and I walked up further, distancing from the performing squad, and started the dance routine again. We moved rhythmically, as if a single unit. The small pause came to an end and I started singing again.

"_I'm off to see the doctor,  
I hope she has a cure.  
I hope she makes me better,  
What does that even mean?"_

_"We don't know!"_ yelled all the Cheerios together.

_"Lordy, Lordy, Lordy!  
I can't help it I like to party, it's genetic!  
It's electrifying, wind me up and watch me go,  
Where she stops, nobody knows,  
A good excuse to be a bad influence on you and you."_

With the word 'you' I pointed at Sam. He was grinning, and a couple of guys up there were clapping their hands to the beat. The girl on my left took my hand, and turned me. I spun to my right, touching against the male dancer of the group. My back touched his, and he bent forward, with me bending backwards, tilting back over his back. The whole routine was strangely theatrical. It was all for the better, actually, because theatre was my total comfort zone. Coach Sylvester knew that.

I sang the chorus one more time during which the Cheerios behind me did somersaults, landing close to each other in the center of the room, where the climbed into a pyramid impossibly fast. The dancers got into a position in front of me, and I crossed my arms. I hoped that it looked as good to the audience as it did in my head.

The 'audience' all stood up and started clapping. Sam looked positively happy and was looking straight at me, while clapping the loudest. Coach Sylvester looked only mildly impressed.

"We can do better, ladies," she yelled. "And your voice shook with the dance moves. Poor breath control," she said in my direction. Then, after a second of thought, "Hit the showers."

The only boys' showers in the school were those attached to the locker room for the sports guys. No way in hell I was getting into the shower with those football Neanderthals if I could avoid it. I decided I'd just take one at home. It was time to leave anyway. I picked up my bag from the corner of the room and gestured for Sam to come and started walking outside. He caught up when I exited the room and soon as he did, he leaned in and pulled me into a hug.

"That was incredible, Kurt," he said in that soft voice of his that melted my heart like butter. Wow, I was getting sappy.

"Thank you," I said, smiling.

Over his shoulder I could see two guys from the football team staring at us. It wasn't that they were glaring; they even looked somewhat interested, I thought curiously, but they had messed things up between Finn and I, and I couldn't afford that happening again, so I pushed Sam away harder than I had intended to. He gave me a confused look and with my eyes I motioned to the guys standing behind me. He had no idea what scenario was running through my mind but he took some hint because he nodded slightly.

"So what're we doing today?" he asked, the smile returning to his lips.

"Anything you want," I said a little too suggestively. I couldn't help it if I was crossing some lines. Sam made it too easy.

He laughed. "We could go out to get something to eat, if you're hungry."

"Are you hungry?"

"Not so much. I had lunch, like, two hours ago."

. I pulled out my phone from the bag. "Oh, it's four."

"Yeah. We could go back to my place," he offered.

"No, we'll go to mine. I need a bath."

"That works. You go on ahead. I'll change out of the uniform and come by your place."

"Sure," I said watched him walk into the building.

I reached home to find Dad and Carole sitting in the living room, watching TV. They were sitting on the sofa, with Carole leaning comfortably against Dad. She had her hand in his, and they seemed like the most comfortable couple I had ever seen. I went into the room, sat in a comfortable, padded chair next to the sofa and placed my bag on the floor. They straightened up a little out of habit but didn't move away. It was nice to see they didn't feel uncomfortable about displaying their affection. It spoke volumes about the sincerity of their relationship that they didn't try to hide it from their children.

"Hey, Kurt," Dad was the first to say. "How was practice?"

"We got a standing ovation from a grand total of seven people that amounted to the audience," I said, jokingly. "It was all right. You're home early."

"Yeah, it was a slow day so we closed up early. And also because I realized that the only time Carole and I-" he kissed her on the cheek. She smiled. "-spend together is on Sunday. That's not very gentlemanly of me!"

I chuckled. "I see."

"Where's Finn?" Carole asked.

"I saw him at school before I went to rehearsal. I don't know where he is presently."

"Oh, maybe he'll be out with Noah again," she said thoughtfully. "That boy doesn't spend a whole lot of time at home anymore, does he?"

"No, he doesn't," I said, trying to keep disappointment out of my own tone.

"Are you sure everything's all right between the two of you? I haven't seen you talk very much this last week," Dad pointed out.

"Yes, everything's fine," I rushed to say. They gave me a look that said they didn't believe me.

"Are you sure, Kurt? I've been meaning to ask you that question. Did something happen? A fight? You can tell us," Carole said in a motherly tone.

"Excuse me, I'm a little thirsty," I said – it was the first excuse that had come to mind – and headed off to the kitchen.

I did have a glass of water, but stayed in the kitchen. Going anywhere would mean having to pass through the living room and I didn't want to be subject to more interrogation.

The doorbell chose that moment to ring. Saved by the bell – literally. "I'll get it," I called out loudly and ran to the door.

As expected, Sam was standing there in his usual jeans-and-t-shirt attire, but looking as gorgeous as ever. I had seen him about half an hour ago and it still seemed like it had been forever.

"Hi," I said, grabbed his wrist and dragged him inside. I started walking to the doorway to my bedroom, and gestured him to follow. He passed the entrance to the living room and waved at them. They stared at him uncertainly, not knowing who he was. I didn't introduce him, and at that moment I didn't want to. We descended the stairs into the room and I turned on the lights. He seated himself on the sofa and I sat on my bed.

"So why are you still in your Cheerios uniform?" he asked.

"Well, I went to say hi to the parent figures and they started gruelling me."

"About what?"

"... Never mind that."

"So, you wanna take a bath?" he asked quite seriously.

"Yes, I would, if you wouldn't mind waiting a little while... You can listen to songs on my iPod or you can turn on the computer, if you want to... Or something..." I rambled.

He stared at me like I was stupid, and then said, "... I meant... Take a bath... With me."

"... Oh." I might have understood what he meant but it still took me a while to process the information. I didn't know how to react but I knew that I had to keep my racing heart in check. With Sam, things were kind of upfront, and there wasn't too much talking, but more of acting on desires. "But we haven't... Ahh... Wouldn't that be a little... Weird?"

His face had an expression I couldn't really place, and he looked down at the floor. "It was just a suggestion, man, don't worry about it."

But what kind of idiot would I be to turn down an offer like that? "I think we could give it a shot."

"Are you sure?" he said, raising his eyes to look into mine.

"Yes!"

"Great," he said and smiled slightly.

I opened the cupboard and took out a cloth hanger on which were hung off-white pants, a belt of the same colour, a purple dress shirt, and a purple scarf. That would work for evening wear. I put the clothes on my bed. I grabbed a few towels, and went into the bathroom, followed by Sam. Once inside, I locked the door and hung the towels on a hook mounted on the door. Out of the cabinet in the bathroom, I took out a box in which were the bathing salts and the essential oils that I sometimes used for baths. And since this was going to be a special kind of bath, I'd make the best one I could. Sam quietly watched me, sitting on the edge of the bathtub.

I plugged the drainage hole closed, and turned the tap for warm water. The bathtub was standard-sized, nothing exceptional. One thing I knew; I would lie on top of Sam. The thought was both exhilarating and unnerving. I got the stuff from the 'beauty box' and waited for the tub to fill. We both waited quietly, him sitting and me leaning against the cool tiles on the bathroom wall. The silence wasn't weird, it was actually kind of comfortable. I needed the quiet to really contemplate the whole situation. Could we really go from small kisses to a full-blown bath with a possibility that it might lead to sex? Was he even prepared for that? Was I? The whole thing seemed to be really impulsive and I hoped as I worked that it wouldn't turn out to be a train wreck. Everything had been going smoothly thus far, though. Once the tub was half full, I added the salts and the oils. There was a light steam rising from the water and the smell was already making me relax. Sam watched me seriously, and I didn't know whether he was as nervous as I was. If he was, there weren't any obvious signs. I didn't look into his eyes the whole time I worked.

A minute later, Sam got up and unbuttoned his shirt slowly, took it off, hanging it next to my own clothes. He had this back turned to me as he undressed. Sam started on his pants and it was interesting how casually he was taking his clothes off. Maybe it was because of his background in sports that he unabashed about undressing in front of another guy. Whatever the case, I was far from complaining. He bent over to remove his pants – he wasn't wearing any underwear – and my eyes roamed from the firm-looking muscles of his thighs, up to his perfectly shaped ass, and his waist which wasn't too narrow or too wide, over which was a broad and slightly tanned back. It was all perfect. He turned around and I was too absorbed in staring that I couldn't avert my gaze fast enough. A knowing smile came to his lips. He had caught me red handed, so to speak, and he was well aware of the effect he was having on me. He stepped close to me, his semi-erect member pressed against me and my hard on felt like it would burst through the front of my pants. A serious situation.

I was still fully clothed and I didn't know what looked odder; his being naked or my being dressed. He took both my hands in his raised them up, before leaning in to give me a little kiss. It was a romantic gesture, wasn't it, for such an erotic situation. I took it in stride though, and before I could say or do anything, he let go of my hand and his fingers went to the hem of my shirt. I looked to my left, into the mirror, where I saw my face an unflattering scarlet. Strangely, it occurred to me, I'd never seen myself blush before, and it appeared stronger than it felt. Sam's eyes turned to the mirror as well, and we both stared at each others' reflection. He pulled the shirt over my head, removing it. I took it from his hand and tossed it on the floor. He touched his fingers on my collarbone and gently started sliding them down. I felt goose bumps when the tips of his fingers ran over my nipples. My stomach muscles twitched when his nails grazed over them, and suddenly his fingers were lingering over the waistband of the sweatpants. Now that was too embarrassing, I was very much capable of undressing myself, and to retain that bit of pride, I took grasp of his wrists and took his hands off, starting on the pants myself.

I nervously glanced at the tub and saw that it was almost up to the desired level. Sam turned the tap closed, and stepped into the warm water. He put his hands on the sides and slowly slid down. I got out of the final article of clothing – my boxers – and turned to face him. His smiled turned into a grin when he saw my erection, but didn't comment on it. He pulled his hand out of the water and held it out. I took it and stepped into the water, careful to avoid stepping on his leg. I put my free hand on the side and let myself slip into the water. The back of my shoulders landed on his chest and I sighed at how wonderful the warm water felt. The only distracting element was his erection pressing against my thigh. Sam leaned in and kissed the back of my neck, making me shiver. He started massaging my shoulders.

"You know, Kurt," he said in a very seductive voice, before pressing his lips against my ear. "I'm so _fucking_ horny."

I only quivered in response, as his tongue ran across my ear.

"You really are a bad influence on me," he whispered. "The way you sang, turned me on."

"Oh… Did it…" I muttered the only response my mind could generate.

It was an unusual feeling in my mind and body. I had never before felt such a conflict of desires. The warm water and the fragrances and the comfortable position were all contributing to relaxing my mind, and if all those factors had their way, I'd be asleep in his arms right now. At the same time, however, his delicate but erotic touching, his own hard member pressing against my thigh, and his gentle kisses on my neck and cheek were collectively driving my sixteen year old hormones into overdrive. And the rush… Oh, God, the rush was like a drug that I could get addicted to without any regrets.

He placed a hand on my chest and trailed it downwards, but stopped at the navel, then brought his hand back up. He was deliberately avoiding touching my hard on, and I was sure that a simple graze of his hand across it would send me over the edge.

At that moment I realized that he was in a complete position of power over me. It wouldn't be fun if I didn't turn the tables. I put my hand underwater and wrapped my fingers around the object of interest: his throbbing erection. I felt his body tense and grinned. Oh, this was going to be fun. The layer of foam prevented me from seeing what was going on under there but I had a pretty good idea on what to do. A gentle stroke on my part earned a long and loud moan from the blond boy. I was momentarily stunned at how loudly he had moaned, but continued with the slow stroking. Sam's hands fell from my shoulders to the sides of the tub, and he leaned his head back. I could feel the muscles of his legs under mine, tightening and loosening. The moans started to come periodically, every time the palm of my hand touched the sensitive head of his cock. He was getting approaching orgasm quickly, and as I sped up my stroking his moans got louder, before dissolving into gasps. A few seconds later he wrapped both his arms across my chest and pressed his pelvis upwards against me. He gasped and let then let out a long moan, and his whole body shook with pleasure, and I knew it was over.

Well, that didn't take a lot of time.

He was breathing heavily and it took him a minute to calm down completely. Only after he'd settled down did he release his grip across my chest. Neither of us spoke at first but then he chuckled. I could feel the vibrations in his chest on my back.

"Kurt, that was incredible," he breathed. "I couldn't even speak the whole time you were doing that… Oh my God."

"We need to wash off, now. I think _it_ stuck to my leg." I grinned.

"Oh, geez, sorry about that," he said, mortified.

I laughed. "Why? I was the one who did it."

"I guess…"

I felt around the bottom surface of the tub for the plug, and pulled it out. Once the water started draining, I stood up and turned the shower on. Sam stood up as well, and we quietly stood under the stream, washing off the suds. Sure enough, the sperm _had_ stuck to my leg but right then I was too horny to care about whether that repulsed me or not.

"Want me to wash your hair?" he offered.

"No, I don't shampoo every day, but thanks." I smiled.

He pouted and stepped behind me. Picking up the bar of soap, he pressed behind me and started working up a foam on my chest. I relaxed into his touch at first but then his hands started trailing downwards. His soapy palm first rubbed against my scrotum and then around the base of my cock. I moaned and it was likely that he realized that I'd had enough teasing. My knees buckled as soon as his hand ran over the length of my hard on, and Sam wrapped his other arm around my chest for a little physical support. He laid soft kisses on my neck and his firm hand sped up. Whenever I masturbated myself, there was certain level of pleasure I felt which I did not think was possible to increase. But right then, the pure rapture had consumed me. I had no control over what I was saying or doing, my eyes were closed, and Sam had a absolute power over me. He loosened the arm on my chest and used his hand to toy with my nipples and that was just the little push I needed to enter that blissful state of no return. I came harder than I imagined I would and almost all my load shot and landed on the wall in front of me.

I needed a few minutes to get my thoughts in order…

We emerged from the bathroom door – Sam half-naked, his shirt in hand, and me with only a towel around my waist – to find Finn standing in the middle of the room. Sam had his hand around my shoulder and I was grinning from ear to ear. Finn's mouth fell open when he saw us. An awkward silence ensued.

"What the _fuck_ is going on here?" Finn yelled.

Sam seemed to be frozen in place and his eyes were wide. Like a deer caught in headlights, was the proper description.

I cleared my throat. "Finn… We were just… Bathing."

"I think you need to leave," he said poisonously to Sam.

"Don't be an asshole, Finn," I said, matching his tone.

"This is for your own good, Kurt," he said, his eyes not leaving Sam's.

Sam looked between Finn and I before putting on his shirt. "It's no problem, Kurt, I'll call you later."

"… All right." As much as I wanted him to stay, I wanted to avoid the argument that was inevitable to start if he did.

Sam hurried out of the room, and a few seconds later I heard the front door close.

"What's this about, Finn?" I started angrily. "You have no right to do this. I never say anything when you bring your dates home!"

"Get dressed. We need to talk," he said quite calmly.

I stared at him. I had no idea what was going on but I knew I wouldn't get anywhere if I didn't listen.

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**Pardon the cliffy, my dear readers. It would have gotten really long if I had included the content I have planned for the next chapter. :] I hope you liked it! Remember: Your reviews are my drugs. :D**


	16. The Best He Never Had

**Bonjour, fellow Gleeks. :] I hope you all are doing hope. Sorry about the late update. Busy week. Enjoy!**__

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_Journal,_

_Life isn't easy. I've learnt that the hard way. But in the end, I've realized that it's humans who make life difficult for others it rarely has to do with nature. Unless there's something akin to a, you know, natural disaster or the like. I try not to make other people's life difficult for them. Everyone has something on their plate. Undoubtedly a lot of people have bigger problems than I do, but we can't really compare them because my problems are mine and no one else's. Comparison isn't going to make them go away. I think that humans come into the world for a purpose. That each and every person has a role to play in the world, and that we complete that objective before we die, knowingly or not. People who finish early are the ones who die early. Maybe the people who die accidentally, don't really die so 'accidentally'. Of course, not everyone's purpose is as grand as Napoleon's or Gandhi's. Not everyone can make a huge mark on history. Some people may have trivial goals of existence. But there is a certain kind of discrimination when it comes to this: why are some people leaders and most aren't? But who knows? God's plan, I guess. Then, one might think that if you leave a person locked up in a room with only food and water, he still dies. Without doing anything. But to this, there are possibly theories. The first being: __everything has a deadline__. This can mean that if you reach that deadline before you finish, you die purposeless. The second theory is: maybe that particular person's purpose __was to be kept locked up for his life__. _

_Who knows? This is one of those paradoxes where you go around in circles. Maybe some people are born to be orphans or slaves? It may sound absurd and it may mean giving yourself up too completely to a higher power, but it should be kept in mind that these are the thoughts of an inexperienced teenager. I don't follow everything blindly, I try to think of my own explanations even if they turn out wrong in the end. It does give me a sense of independence and originality, anyway. In the end, however, we can deduce that freedom is important. If you don't let someone fulfill their goals, there is a possibility that you're robbing the history books of something significant. In light of all I've written, I wonder what the goal of my existence is. I think I've said before that I don't believe in a complete destiny. And I think it's my choice to pave the way as I like to what I'm meant to do in life. But you never know what it is, do you?_

_On an unrelated note, I can't get Sam out of my mind. I think I really did fall in love with him. I have so many things to say about that… A broken-hearted lover's sadness can't even be understood by another one of his or her kind. It's one of the few things in the world one really has to do alone.I think that we only love when we have to. When we can't be alone any longer. It's probably on subconscious level, when the mind thinks it needs a 'significant other' or 'the one'. Which is why there isn't an age or time for love. But I also think 'the one' doesn't exist. There are no two people whose minds and bodies are completely compatible. It's just that when we love someone enough, we mold that person into the one. It takes a while, and it's not easy, but is possible. One thing is for sure though, love is almost never wrapped inside a diamond ring. There is more to it than that… Something that I can't even put into words… Maybe that's just my limitation. I think the 'aesthetic' authors like Oscar Wilde express what love is perfectly. _

I looked up to see Sam a few yards away, walking towards where I'm sitting. I stare at the black colored words on white sheets that I just wrote under the dim light emitting from the bulbs that are meant to provide visibility in this darkness to the people sitting on these benches.

I took a deep breath. Closing the journal, I slid it into my bag.

* * *

When I entered the park, I saw Kurt sitting on a metal bench in the middle of the park not very far from the entrance. He was sitting with his legs crossed and in his lap was a thick brown notebook in which he was writing. I started walking towards him, all the while trying to conceal my nervousness behind a smile. He saw me approaching him, and he closed the notebook and put it away in his bag. He had sounded urgent over the phone. I'd gotten the call about an hour after I left his house following the most amazing bath I'd ever had. I looked at my wrist watch. Eight PM. He had asked me to meet him at the park, and there had been a note of anger or maybe unease in his voice which he'd never used when talking to me before. I didn't really want to see him hurt or angry. I was also curious as to what Finn had told him. I couldn't let Kurt drift away from me now; not after I'd put in so much effort in winning him over.

"Hello, Sam," he said, staring straight ahead of him, not bothering to look up.

"Kurt, babe." I forcefully plastered a smile on my face.

"Something isn't right," he said, but it was plainly obvious from the expression on his face.

"Tell me what's wrong and I'll fix it," I said as positively as I could manage and sat next to him. I tried to pull him towards myself by putting an arm around his shoulders but he leaned his weight away from me.

"Sam…" He turned to look me in the eyes. His face looked like the expression of remorse was engraved into his skin. "Finn told me some… things after you left."

"Is that what's troublin' you?" I had no reason to be skeptical; by now I had a pretty good idea what he was getting to, but I couldn't bring myself to admit it.

He suddenly looked angry. "Don't fuck with me, Sam. Do I look like I'm in the mood for games?"

"Calm down, Kurt," I said softly but suddenly I couldn't look that beautiful brown-haired boy in the eyes.

His anger seemed to dissolve into sadness when he put his face in his hands. "He told me about some 'plan' of the football team. Is it true?"

"You gotta understand, Kurt-"

"Please, no explanations," his voice seemed so distant and broken that my guilt increased a hundred fold. How could I have done that to this innocent guy? "Yes or no?"

"Yeah, but…"

"So you were seducing me for the laughs? That seems like a hell of a lot of effort for a prank."

"How do you believe Finn? Has he got any proof? Maybe he just wants to break us up!"

"Don't even start that with me!" he said loudly. "Puck told him today. And even if he _is_ lying, you just almost admitted to doing what he's accusing you of. Or maybe some lesser version of it but it's the same thing! You played with my heart!"

"Listen to me, Kurt," I said, closing my eyes. I could offer no amount of justification to make it all better. I ran a hand through my hair.

"Doesn't look like I have much of a choice, do I?" he said bitterly, looking me in the eyes with that haunted expression again. The continuous changing of his moods and expressions was unnerving.

"Look, here's the thing… The guys on the team told me how they caught Finn and you making out in school. They had their problems with it, but you gotta know that I don't care who dates whom."

He seemed to be holding his breath so I continued.

"When I went to school and made friends with the guys on the team… Well, I met Finn. The quarterback and the singing stud that everyone liked. I thought he was attractive – who wouldn't? But he was kind of arrogant. He joined in with the guys when they gave the 'new guy' a hard time."

"I don't believe you. Finn wouldn't do that anymore. He's a changed guy. Finn joined in those guys to torment me, too, but now he's not that kind of a person anymore," he said with such conviction that I could see his love for Finn in his eyes and hear it in his voice.

"He was dating that blonde cheerleader in those days, after you guys had been caught kissing. Maybe he wanted to go back to his old life to be considered a cool guy again – who knows? All I know is, I would have done the same thing in if I was in his position. But, Kurt, believe me, he wasn't nice to me at all when I first met him. Then I made friends with some of the guys. Azimio and a few other guys told me about what had happened with you and Finn, and then they told me what they wanted. They said if I hurt you bad enough you'd stay away from Finn, and in Azimio's words, _the faggotry would stay away from the football team_. Look, everyone knows how much you like Finn, okay? It's _obvious_. It was a gamble on my part, I didn't know if Finn liked you back but you were the only way I could get back at him for treating me like crap. He might like that blonde cheerleader but he doesn't love her; we all know he's doing it for his status. Plus, they would stop tormenting me at school if I did it; that was the condition. I decided to go through with it."

Kurt's expressions had gone from sadness to remorse to surprise to anger with every word. "Is that supposed to be some kind of an explanation? I'm supposed to forgive you because you _only _did it when you were subjected to _social pressures_?"

"No! Listen. You have to believe me when I say that I really… truly, started to like you in the middle of the whole thing. Not everyone has the courage to be open about what they are, Kurt. I think you're awesome for being open about your sexuality but I don't. I didn't want to hurt you, man. You have to believe me."

"Oh, so that's it? I wasn't the _intended_ target? It's just as wrong if you were doing it to Finn. You say he picked on you with his buddies because he gave in to peer pressure, and then you do the same thing and think that it's okay? That's _fucking_ hypocritical!" Kurt's face was red with rage and he was glaring at me. He uncrossed his legs and sat up straighter.

"Do you like Finn?" I asked as if that was the fundamental question that would fix something.

"More than I like you," he spat out, and stood up. Those words were like daggers to my soul.

I wanted to cry. I had never wanted to cry so badly in my life. This boy who had given me all his sincere love and trust, who I could have talked to about anything in my life, who was intelligent, trendy, strong-willed, and honest; this boy didn't deserve any of this. He didn't deserve to find out that the one guy who liked him for what he is was just lying to him. I, on the other hand, deserved as much of a punishment as he saw fit.

"Just so there aren't any ambiguities," he said, picking up his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. "We're over. I don't really ever want to talk to you again."

"What? No! Let me make it up to you."

"No. And I'm not sorry. Maybe I'm throwing away my one chance at love in a long, long time, but I've decided that it's the right thing to do. You hurt me – intentionally or not – and you targeted the guy I _loved_. That's unforgivable in my book."

_"It's a dark road and a dark way that leads to your house,  
And the word says I'm never gonna find you there, oh no,  
You've got an open door, it didn't get there by itself,  
Didn't get there by itself."_

Kurt stood staring at me as I sang the modified lyrics to Annie Lennox's _Dark Road_ to fit his situation. I wanted more time with him, maybe if I apologized enough he would forgive.

"I won't lie," he started. "You sing beautifully, Sam. I have a hard time trusting people, you know that, and with you, I finally stopped looking over my shoulder for once in my life. I believed you didn't have an ulterior motive. But you did. Maybe what you did isn't unforgivable, but it will take time. Just try not to force me to make any decisions. I make all the wrong ones under pressure. Goodbye."

I sat there for the next hour regretting all the bad choices I'd made.

I just wanted the night to take me to a place of solitude.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed the perspective change. :) Your feedback is appreciated as always!**


	17. Say Something Good

Kurt is innocent, Kurt is sweet and Kurt is an incredibly rational human being. He never does anything without considering the consequences of his actions. I think he should take risks but at the same time I find him so perfect in his calculated nature that I think he should stay how he is. I want to understand things logically like he does, and I want his sense of reason. In some ways I want to be like Kurt Hummel; uncaring of what the world says or thinks and inconsiderate of what looks strange as long as it feels right and feels good. People say he's not confident but I think he's one of the bravest people I've ever met.

What does he like about me, then?

And no, that isn't some kind of a weird self-esteem issue. I'm flattered that he does. But it's natural of me to wonder why. An intelligent guy like him must have known what he was getting into when he fell for the nearest football jock who was less interested in him than a stork would be in a pool of lava (I read that example online once and it stuck with me). And he was burned again and again, but he kept at it. He was persistent, and it amazes me how far he took it. It was like he wanted to get over it but a part of him, like a part of his _soul_, attached itself to his love. He's clung to that little hope, or faith, or expectation – whatever you want to call it – and every day I am surprised at the devotion, selflessness and purity of his feelings towards me. I can't blame him for going to Sam when I was the one who pushed him away.

With the exception of Mercedes, I think I'm the only person who has seen all the sides of his personality. I've seen his eyes light up looking at the "new arrivals" section at the mall's shops. I've seen him look irritated when he finds his bottles of lotion or tubes of face wash empty. I've seen him sad whenever I get angry with him. I've seen the lust in his eyes for my body when I walk out of the shower in my underwear, and how he turns away just out of respect or embarrassment. I've seen him afraid and uncertain when his relationship with his father hits a rough patch. But, unfortunately, I've also seen his anger. Usually it's never full-blown yelling-at-the-top-of-his-lungs anger, but it's a kind of a bitterness that seems to have become a part of his persona. And out of those regrets and resentments, he has made himself a place in his mind where he retreats to with his iPod earphone plugged into his ears. He sits and stares at things quietly while he thinks to himself and it scares me, because I never know what it is he wants from life.

I haven't done anything to get him out of that retreat. And I think it might be too late for me to try.

I'm not stupid, I know his worth. And yet I never want to vocally admit how much I cherish and care for him. I remember most of what I did to him the night I was drunk. The pieces started coming back to me the very next day. I don't have the courage to accept how much I enjoyed it, and how much I wish I could do it again. But what scares me is not how he'll react when he finds out I remember. What scares me is the understanding that I might fall out of love with him when someone else – someone better – comes along in my life, boy or girl. I'm not the best with monogamy, and it shames me to admit it but I can't help it any more than Kurt can help being gay. I suppose I'm just wired that way.

But I would make a sincere effort for Kurt. I would try my best to never hurt him or betray his trust.

And yet his trust will be the hardest thing to win now. I told him the truth about Sam hoping that he'd break up with him, and it worked. But seeing Kurt right now, sitting in front of the mirror with a hair comb in hand, with that distant look in his eyes, makes me wonder if I did the right thing. Maybe Sam would have actually fallen for him. I could have saved him the ugliness. I don't even know how bad the breakup was. Was there a fight? But that wasn't something I could ask Kurt now, it would be too inappropriate. It's possible that because of me Kurt has wounds that might not heal soon, or ever.

I hope he doesn't resent _me._

I call out his name and he looks at me in the mirror. I put down the magazine whose pages I've been pretending to read for the better of an hour and Kurt's been sitting on that chair the whole time. We both haven't moved. I don't say anything because I didn't even think before calling his name. I want him to speak, I want to hug him. He doesn't turn away his eyes, but looks me dead-on. It is an accusing stare and I feel like a scared child caught doing something wrong. He blames me for what happened and I can't deny it. Kurt was probably having the most exciting part of his relationship thus far when I stopped them and pissed all over his parade. I was protecting him when I told him about Sam, though, and I repeat that thought in my head hoping that it would bring me the confidence to match his stare. I can't though, and end up looking away. He goes back to staring in the mirror blankly. It hurts my heart to see him this uninterested in his surroundings. I gather the courage and speak his name again, this time a little bolder, and he looks at me again, not uttering a word.

I ask him what's bothering him and he rolls his eyes at the stupidity of the question. He does that a lot. I know it was a useless question to ask but I needed to talk to him, even if it had to be by small talk. His phone vibrates but he makes no move to pick it up from the table. He asks me what I want, and I stare at him, unable to really answer. I think I do this to him often, that I don't respond or respond nicely, he draws his own hints from it and thinks I don't want to talk to him, when it's actually that I don't know what to say. I remember after I watched a movie with Kurt – it was named _Sister's Keeper_ or something like that; Kurt forced me to watch it with him – and after it was over, neither of us moved for a few minutes. I had really enjoyed it, and I was taken in by the reality of it. While we were both staring at the screen, watching the credits roll, Kurt, looking like he was in a trance, said, "Tears are more valuable than smiles, you know. You can put on a smile for anyone but you only cry for someone you don't want to lose." I thought it was the deepest thing he ever said, but I didn't understand what it had to do with the movie. But it was true; me and Kurt and both force on smiles when we meet our parents or friends tomorrow, but here in the privacy of our room; I know that if he cries, I will cry. I know Kurt has a journal, and I think if I read it I'll find out what he's really thinking now. I'm curious to know if he still likes me. I can't ask him directly, though, that wouldn't be right.

A little test needs to be done.

I throw the magazine on the table and start unbuttoning my shirt. Slowly and what I hope is a little seductively, I push the fabric away after every undone button, exposing more skin inch by inch. Kurt doesn't turn away this time. It takes every bit of courage I have to do this, and to not look away from his eyes. He doesn't turn his revolving chair to look at me directly, though. He looks through the mirror. And it's strange doing this in reflection. I remove the shirt and throw it on the floor. I can't imagine what's going through his head right now, but even if he is attracted right now, he won't act on it because he probably thinks it's too early for rebound. Kurt doesn't rush through things. I wouldn't complain if he wanted to have sex with me right now, because it would set a lot of things straight. I could make amends for giving him bad sex on his first time and he would get over Sam, even if it was a little bit. But then again, I wasn't sure of the latter. What if he's too emotionally weak right now? What if he starts crying in the middle or after the sex? I couldn't afford that to happen either. I'd probably die of guilt if it did. And it occurred to me that I was thinking about feelings and emotions. Maybe it was Kurt rubbing off on me. But instead of being disgusted by the fact, it made me feel a little proud that I'd grown a little deeper.

I try to smile and Kurt stares at me, with a little disbelief in his eyes. I nod, I don't know what for, but he takes some kind of a signal out of it and swirls his chair slowly to face me. His gaze roams from my chest to my arms, and he seems to be drinking everything in. Usually I'm in a hurry to get dressed in front of him so it doesn't award him a lot of time to look, so maybe he cherishes the moment. I don't know how I'll feel about doing this in the future but right now I'm willing to do whatever it takes to relieve his burdens and pains. I haven't been the kind of guy he deserved, and it was time I started becoming one. Even if we only remain friends, I need to be the friend worthy of his trust. It was a combination of guilt and a feeling of incompetence forcing me to think these things.

He gets up and walks towards me, and I don't move a muscle. I inhale and realize that I was holding my breath. Am I nervous? I can't afford to lose my courage now. It's not for me, it's for him. While the man in me is fighting to take control of the situation, I steady my impulses and want him to do what he wants. He wants it, he needs it, and damn it all to hell, he _deserves it_.

Kurt doesn't touch me, though. He just stands next to my bed, staring and staring some more. Suddenly I can't take it anymore. I get off the bed, and stand in front of him. He doesn't raise his head to look me in the eyes; he stares right ahead of him. Stares at my chest. I pull him into an embrace, then. I hear him take a sharp breath and his cheek presses against my skin, and his uncertainty brings a smile to my face. So he really was nervous about me getting shirtless but he was trying not to show it.

I don't know how long we'll keep standing like this in each others' arms.

And I don't care, either...

* * *

**First conversation-less chapter. Like? Dislike? *review addicted***


	18. Misery Business Resolved

**Hey, Gleeks. Hope you're all in good health + enjoying the second season as much as I am. :] Sorry about the late update. Had a busy two weeks. Enjoy!  
**

* * *

We were throwing a welcome home party to Rachel at Tina's house. Well, not we – I couldn't have cared less, of course – but most of the club. Nobody liked how she'd pulled that stunt on Finn, but they were making an effort to forgive her. The surprising part had been when Finn himself had agreed to participate. He had convinced everyone that he did not, in fact, hate her. But I think I saw beyond Finn's façade. He wasn't too eager to be celebrating her return but this was his way of getting back her. When she came back and saw that none from the club were hostile towards her, she'd realize how wrong she was to throw away a guy like Finn. Or maybe I was thinking about this the wrong way; maybe he really _had_ forgiven her. And in that highly unlikely case, I found myself wondering how he could be so forgiving. But that was one of his qualities; he never held grudges.

I walked into the familiar living room of Tina's house, and had a look around. Her house really didn't give off an Asian vibe. There was no eastern décor, and the whole house was very American. Tina was American at heart, anyway. This was pretty toned down compared to her bedroom, anyway. Her room looked like it could be habituated by vampires. The furniture had been set up in almost the same way that we had done on her party, sans the abundant amounts of decoration and the "Happy Birthday!" banner. I saw Mercedes and Finn carry the stereo to the middle of the room. I think someone at the last party had suggested a karaoke machine, too, but they had been shot down, because we could always sing a capella much better, and there was really no need to make the neighbours' ears bleed if someone was having a bad vocal day. From the kitchen, I could hear Tina and Mike talking about how much food they'd need. I knew Artie and Tina were hitting a rough patch in their relationship, and she'd started spending a lot of time with the eye-candy that was Mike Chang – hey, sad or not, I still had an appreciation for masculine beauty – and Artie was none too happy about it.

As for the party arrangements, I was being the least helpful, I knew that, but no one had called me out on it. I had no idea how many of my friends knew about what happened with Sam, but I was sure that the guys on the football team know. Plus, I'd told Mercedes myself. I hadn't even wanted to come, but Mercedes had insisted that I needed some time of the house. Finn informed our parents about the party and Carole had done everything short of pushing me out the door, trying to get me to go. How would the "fresh air" help? The irony was that I was again in the same place where everything wrong in my life had started, and I couldn't help but think back to my night with Finn. I just hoped the guys wouldn't bring alcohol again. But they probably wouldn't, because Tina's mom was at home. She had, of course, promised to stay upstairs and not give her opinion about the arrangements, upon Tina's vehement insistence. I sighed and walked out the front door to the porch where I saw Artie talking on his cell.

"It's no problem at all," he said into the phone, and then after a few seconds of pause, "No, it's all right, any one of us can drop her home, don't worry."

I flopped down in a lawn chair near him.

"You're welcome. 'Bye," he said and flipped his phone closed.

"What's going on, Artie?"

"Oh, I was talking to Rachel's dad. Telling him not to go pick her up. Brit and Santana will get her from the airport and bring her here."

"Okay…" I said, losing any curiosity I had when I heard Rachel's name.

He seemed to notice my lack of interest. "Oh, and they'll be here in about…" He looked at his watch, then, "Forty-five minutes."

I sat quietly and a minute later Artie went back inside, when he realized I wasn't interested in making conversation. It wasn't that I didn't want to talk to him, but I there was kind of fear I felt when talking to anyone. I was afraid that if I started chatting then amidst the conversation my love life – and Sam – would inevitably come up, and I wouldn't be able to stop myself from crying. It was irrational, but my mind had stopped making sense a while back. I pulled out my iPod out of my pocket and plugged in the earphones, volume turned up. I needed closure, and I needed to forget about him. Sleeping with someone to get over someone else wasn't a good approach, though. And yet when I stood in a shirtless Finn's arms for a proverbial eternity a few days ago, I really felt at home. I didn't know if being attracted to him so soon after my break up was self-destructive or not, but it felt right.

I heard two or three songs before a feeling of uselessness came upon me. I tried to overcome it, though. The moping around wouldn't help at all, and I needed to get myself together. I walked to my car, and grabbed the bag on the backseat. Hanging it on my arm, I started making my way back inside. The bathroom in the hall was occupied so I went to use the bathroom attached to Tina's bedroom. In the room, I quickly unbuttoned and took off my shirt so it wouldn't get wet and put it on her bed. From the bag I took out a face wash, a can of hair spray and Aloe vera hand lotion, and went into the bathroom.

After washing my face, I was giving my hair a deep inspection to check if no follicles were out of place when there was a loud knock on the bathroom door. I suspected it was Tina, and maybe she wouldn't like the fact that I was using her bathroom without her permission, but it seemed unlikely, because they considered me one of the girls anyway. I collected my things and opened the door to see Finn with an impatient look on his face. But when he looked down at me his expression changed. I tried stepping past him but he didn't move to let me pass.

"What?" I asked, feeling strange.

"You... Uhh," he said, stretching the vowel. "Can go back to using the bathroom if you want. No rush."

I took a closer look at his face and narrowed my eyes. "You want to pee really badly, don't you, Finn?"

"... Yeah."

"Then why are you offering the bathroom to me?"

"I dunno... What I'm saying... But you... You l-look..." he stammered.

I was getting annoyed now. "Say it already."

"You look really hot in just those black pants," he said faster than I'd ever heard him speak.

Wasn't expecting that. "Finn..."

"I mean it," he said, slower now. He raised his right hand and ran his fingers gently over the side of my belly. His nails grazed so gently over the skin that I felt ticklish and the muscles of my abdomen twitched.

"Before someone comes, Finn. I know you wouldn't want to be caught during one of your horny moments with me again," I said a little more poisonously than I'd intended. I gently grabbed his wrist and pushed it away.

A hurt look came to his face but before he could speak, I spoke. "Go ahead, take care of your business. The party will start soon," I said and stepped aside to let him in. When he didn't move, I slid by his side back into the room and gave him a little push into the bathroom.

He gave me another look before closing the door, and I felt oddly naked. I rushed to put the shirt back on before he came back out, and hurried into the living room where Tina, Artie, and Mercedes were having a debate over what CDs to play.

"Well, I just don't think Christina's music is best for parties," said Artie.

"That's not true," said Mercedes. "I think her album _Stripped_ had plenty of party songs, and her last one, _Bionic_ has some good fast numbers."

"I still think the playlist should have some Adam Lambert songs," added Tina.

"Fine," said Artie, defeated, and started working on making the playlist on the laptop on his lap.

"Where's Mike?" I asked.

"He spilled fruit punch on his shirt and went to take a quick shower," replied Tina. "He's taking too long so I told Finn to use my bathroom..."

"I know," I said, thoughtfully.

She gave me a puzzled look. The doorbell rang and Mercedes rushed to answer it. I heard Rachel's familiar voice when she opened the door. Rachel practically ran into the living room, with about ten bags in her hand. She put them down and hugged everyone in the room. Of course, I reluctantly hugged her back because I didn't want to upset her and start any kind of drama here. Mercedes, Santana and Birttany followed her inside and everyone took up a seat, except Rachel. She picked up the bags on by one and started distributing the contents around the room. She'd bought gifts for everyone. I couldn't make guesses from the sizes of the wrapped items what the gifts were, but the three she gave to Tina looked like books and the two small boxes she handed me looked like they could contain wrist watches or small perfumes. The next few minutes passed exchanging the pleasantries. Rachel seemed genuinely happy to see us again.

"It was great touring all of Ohio, guys. Shopping in Columbus was the best part. Oh my God, all the shows were so much fun! All the critics praised our performances, and I got to meet some pretty famous people! And I had such a great time with Jesse," she rambled on. "He recorded a demo, and the label said they'd finalize his singing contract soon. Right now he's gone to LA to finalize his admission, but maybe he'll visit before his session starts."

The girls seemed all interested in her stories about shopping and the two late-summer fashion shows Rachel had been to, but I was only half listening. Finn came up and a little while later and behind him was a shirtless Mike. Rachel gave them both hugs and handed them whatever she'd bought for them. All the girls' eyes followed Mike, and Tina looked like she was just short of drooling. Once my eyes glued themselves to his abs, I just couldn't look away. He took a seat beside Artie. After the conversation started again, I could feel everyone was a little distracted because of him. I was surprised to see that even Finn threw him the occasional glance.

The conversation wasn't interesting to me, though, because the main topics were sports, video games, or food. The girls tried to include me in their conversation by asking random opinions from me, so I forced myself to have a little meaningless chat. After a little while Puck arrived, with an extra t-shirt in hand, and tossed it to Mike from across the room. All the looks once again turned to him as he pulled it over his head. Puck rolled his eyes.

We didn't have to wait too long for Quinn, she arrived mere moments later, bringing with her easily the biggest shock I'd had in days. She came in, followed by none other than Sam Evans. He stopped for a moment when he saw us and a dark look came to his face when his eyes met mine. Suddenly, I didn't feel sad on seeing him; I felt angry. Here I was wondering about what the right time was for rebound and he was already going out with the head cheerleader. I turned away. Quinn greeted Rachel and Sam introduced himself to Artie, Tina and Mercedes. Someone turned on the music.

"Hey, I'll help you bring out the food," I offered to Tina when I saw Sam staring at me from across the room. I saw him go over to Quinn and whisper something in her ear, and she rolled her eyes.

"Sure, thanks," she said cheerfully and I followed her in the kitchen, where there were Puck and Santana having a heated discussion about something. They broke it off as soon as we walked in and Santana walked out.

"Wow, not in the party mood, guys?" Tina asked no one in particular.

"She's just... ticked that I couldn't take her out last weekend," Puck answered a little unconvincingly.

"Why not just tell the truth?" Santana said from the kitchen door.

All eyes moved to Puck. He turned his head. "It's nothing."

Santana walked away.

I decided that I didn't want to know and Tina and I started picking up the bowls of food. By the time we gathered all the dishes and put them on the table in the living room, the music was turned up loud and everyone seemed to be having a good time. Someone had even dimmed the lights. For a party in only one semi-large room, the atmosphere was amazing. The hook of _Not Myself Tonight_ even made me want to dance. I smiled for the first time all day.

I walked up to Mercedes and kissed her on the cheek. She gave me a knowing smile. "What?"

"You were right. I needed this," I said.

I took a look around the room. Almost everyone was dancing. That was when I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see Puck behind me. He gestured for me to follow him and walked to the kitchen. I walked in behind him.

"Listen," he said, turning around to face me. "I didn't know Quinn was gonna bring that dude. You okay with that?"

He wanted to talk about me? "Uhh. Sure, I'm fine."

"Then quit looking at him," he said in an irritated tone.

"... Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah."

"Why did you tell Finn about what Sam was doing?"

"Look... You get enough shit for being the way you are, already."

"Call me ungrateful," I narrowed my eyes. "But after all the times you've slushied me and thrown me in the dumpster and slammed me against the walls, that I don't entirely trust that statement."

He sighed. "And I can't be sorry for that?"

"You never actually apologized," I pointed out.

"Can't you just be happy I didn't let the team destroy your social life?"

"I don't have a large one to speak of, and I wonder whose fault that is," I said sarcastically.

"Stop laying the blame on me," he said defensively. "It wasn't just me who bullied you."

And it was at that moment I realized how really ungrateful I was being. He was right; it wasn't entirely his fault and he really _had_ helped me. I wasn't really angry with Puck.

"I'm sorry," I said, and quickly grabbed him into a hug. "And thank you."

His body tensed when I did, but he didn't push away. I did let him go after a few seconds.

He was smiling. "Don't mention it, bro."

"And what exactly was it that Sam did?" we heard from the doorway.

"Quinn," I whirled around.

"Go on, tell me," she said, and narrowed her eyes.

"It's nothing," Puck said, put his hand on my shoulder and we both pushed past Quinn, back into the living room...

... Where we saw Finn and Rachel arguing and everyone was standing around them. Great.

The evening just kept getting better, didn't it?

"Oh, then why did you all go through this much trouble if you think I'm such a slut?" I heard Rachel yell out. Artie turned the music off. Suddenly the room fell completely silent. And everyone was standing so still they looked like statues.

"We're the ones who should be accusing you, Rachel," Finn suddenly said. "You're not in a position to say stuff like that. We tried to do something nice for you!"

"Finn," Puck called out and walked over. He grabbed Finn's arm, and pulled him away. "Stop."

"I think there's some stuff we need to talk about," said Mercedes, a little angrily, looking from me to Sam to Finn. "Everyone take a seat. Now."

Usually everyone in the club has their opinions and disagreements but right now we all listened to Mercedes. Even Santana didn't object, but I suspected it was being she was just expecting some juicy details. Sam sat with Quinn across the room from me, and Tina, Rachel and Mike took seats besides me. Santana, Brittany and Artie were on the side of the room, and Mercedes didn't sit.

"You know what, guys?" she started. "We might all sing and perform really well, but we've never really talk that openly, especially when we're all together. And things happened recently that concern us as a group. Talk."

"This is pretty awkward," Santana spoke out. "Isn't that like group therapy? We don't need that."

"All I wanna know is what Sam did that made Kurt and Puck develop such brotherly love," Quinn said sarcastically. Sam seemed to freeze beside her.

"I guess she really doesn't know," Santana said, facing Puck.

"What does that mean?" asked Quinn angrily.

"Well, that is what Puck wanted to know. Since the party started all Puck's been saying to me is to find out if you knew."

"Knew what?" Quinn was yelling at this point.

"How he tried to screw up Kurt's life by going out with him," Finn spoke up.

"He _what_?" Three people said at the same time.

"I wasn't trying to hurt him!" said Sam.

I couldn't keep my mouth shut now. "Well, it happened anyway."

"How many times do I have to say sorry?"

"Hold it!" Quinn yelled. "Is this why you were so uncomfortable being here?" She asked Sam.

"Yeah, why didn't you tell me this was going to be a New Directions party? I thought it was just some of your friends getting together."

"These guys _are_ my friends," Quinn said with acid in her voice.

Sam looked stumped.

"Anyway, how come everyone knows about this and not me?" asked Quinn and her eyes darted from me to Finn.

"You'd know if you'd bothered stepping out of your own world," taunted Santana.

"You shut your mouth," Quinn said threateningly.

"Why do you people talk so loud?" Brittany said in her usual disconnected tone. "I can't talk like that. I think I don't know how."

"She's right," Artie assented. "We're not being very civilized."

"So... I don't think my breaking up with Finn was the worst thing to have happened," said Rachel and I vaguely wondered how she had kept quiet for so long.

"Actually, it is _all_ your fault," I said in her direction.

She narrowed her eyes. "Back off. It was bad enough that you wanted some kind of fairy tale romance with Finn and you tried to break us up. And now you slept with another guy? Are you insatiable?"

"I didn't sleep with him," said Sam quickly.

"Whatever," Rachel rolled her eyes.

"Be nice to Kurt, Rachel," Finn said, and I think it was the first time he was defending me from someone in the group.

I just really wanted to tell Rachel off, so I started. "I'm realistic enough to know that isn't such a thing as an ideal relationship, you know! There's no such thing as ideal at all. The people who think about all these grand and ideal things like world peace are completely unrealistic. I'm not jaded; I just think that one shouldn't consider things that simply cannot happen. And every single one of you might claim to know that but we completely disregard it when it comes to an actual relationship and in every single relationship we start saying that _yeah, this relationship is real, and this is the one I was waiting for. _What are the odds that you and Quinn are going to work out, huh, Sam? I can bet anything you two won't last because there's no one alive who can tolerate your mood swings, Quinn. And Sam, you plain just can't be trusted as far as my knowledge goes!"

Everyone was stunned. They looked uncomfortable from me to each other, but none of them said anything for a little while. Quinn just looked like she'd explode.

"Who gave you the right to judge us?" she retaliated. "Stop being so self-righteous, you're no better than any of us. You did everything to get a guy you couldn't have, and you tried to hurt first my relationship with him and then Rachel's. So how is it that what Rachel did that was so bad?"

"Oh, and you know any better than I do? It's easy to say you're sorry, Quinn, and it's so easy to claim that you've become a better person, and that you won't make the same mistakes again. But the truth is, if we get into the same positions again, we fall for the same person and we make the same mistakes again. Talking about logic is easy but it's never possible to bring it all into play. I'm not saying what I did was right, and I'm sorry if I hurt anyone when I was blindly going after Finn. But at least I know when I'm wrong. Look at your reflection or – as a famous south Asian saying goes – look under your own collar, and tell me how you justify your hatred. Hatred for me, especially, because aren't I the creepy gay guy who goes after every hot football jock he sees? I'm not stupid; I know none of you have a great opinion about me."

I had never seen the atmosphere so tense between the group, and my rant had done nothing to elevate it.

"I'm really sorry," Rachel said – and quite sincerely, if I may say. "Finn, I'm sorry I did that to you. I know that saying sorry won't make everything all right, but_ I _will try to make it all right. And Kurt, you're a saint for giving everyone a second chance all the time, no matter how hurt you get."

"That's more like it," said Mercedes, smiling in Rachel's direction.

Finn didn't answer her, and his eyes were fixed on mine, and he was smiling. And despite the tension in the room, I felt close to him, and close to his soul. Sam looked ashamed but Quinn took his hand in hers and squeezed it. They smiled a little at each other, and for some reason it seemed like they would make it, at least for a while longer. Maybe I was too overly pessimistic before.

Tina stood up and walked over to the stereo. "Okay, guys, enough drama. We should be enjoying the fact that Rachel's back! And we can always talk later, cant we? Let it go for a while, enjoy the night!" She turned on the music. "Who wants punch and who wants to dance?"

I grinned. Everyone stood up. There were cheers and a little hooting. Mercedes gave Rachel a hug, and Tina turned the music up.

And I knew my uncertainties were dissolving away in the beat. I wasn't sure if I was ready to jump back into anything with Finn. All I knew was I could let loose for now, and enjoy with my friends. My real friends. And at that moment I wasn't the only openly gay kid in school, and I wasn't the fashion-conscious diva, and most of all, I wasn't heart-broken.

I was a content teenager.

* * *

**Therapeutic, no? :p Reviews are loved. :]**


	19. Make You Feel My Love

**Here we are. Last chapter. Very sorry for very late update. :p Anyway. Enjoy the lemony-ness! **_

* * *

I know that everyone has a certain kind of 'stubbornness' when it comes to love. Sometimes when we find out someone's interested, we feign disinterest and play hard-to-get. And yet maybe that's not a proper word to describe it. When, for example, a girl likes a boy, and he doesn't like her back, she wonders what on earth she's doing wrong. But as soon as another boy shows interest in her, she distances herself or gives the admirer a hard time, not thinking about how strong __he__ feels. But love isn't supposed to be rational. People in love are senseless. Why am I expected to be sensible and let go when none of my friends do it? I see the disgust in their eyes when they catch me looking at Finn. Is it because their __kind__ of love is accepted by society? I think so. But when did this start? When did people become so prejudiced? The old Greeks worshiped both feminine __and__ masculine gods. Even the Egyptians bowed to male gods of fertility and youth. Even as far as the east where Islam explicitly prohibits homosexuality, the old art and literature contain blunt references to 'male love'.  
But in the end it was religion that blocked the paths to acceptance of feminism and hedonism and homosexuality. I am not condemning anyone for their beliefs and I couldn't care less what the people pray to at the end of the day, I just think they should __keep it to themselves__. But these days, at least where I live, to get away with being indulgent is only a habit the rich can afford. I'm not one of them, so I have to lay low. But I'm breaking all the rules for Finn, and maybe I'm pushing it too far. But what can I do? I feel the time slipping and an age approaching where I might not have the time to fool around. I don't know why I'm so sensitive to this. I don't even know what I'm writing by this point among my insecurities, but all I do know is that I'm afraid of the future I'm heading to, or the future heading towards me. I don't know what's to come, but I understand that I don't want to be alone when it does._

I wasn't entirely sure I understood the stuff written in there, but I was shocked. I whistled. How was it, that sweet little Kurt was harboring thoughts like these? He was a complex human being, I'd known that, but this went beyond his age. He was _so_ mature! How could he mask it so well? But more importantly, why did he even try to? Maybe because he was different enough already, and he'd be even more rejected if he showed this side of his persona. I felt sympathy for the guy, and I felt a strange love for him. Like a desire to protect him, like a father or older brother would feel, but I knew it went beyond that. I had sexual feelings for him. I needed him, and I wanted him, but I couldn't act on it. Because I'd hurt him so many times before. He would never let me near his heart now. I'd messed up too many times.

So I was on his mind, was I? A random entry I opened had my name in it. So the chances were that there was more stuff he'd written about me. I needed to get close to him. If there had been any doubt in my mind about my feelings for him before, it had removed after I read his journal. But I felt guilty enough reading this one entry even though he wouldn't let anyone touch it. I didn't want to violate his privacy any more than I already had. An overwhelming sense of guilt came over me, and I hurriedly put the journal back into his bag, and returned his back to its original position on the floor beside his bed. What would he think if he found out? He would probably hate me even more, and that was the last thing I wanted.

I ran out of the room and slammed the door shut behind me.

Kurt was sitting in the living room, his eyes glued to the TV screen. In my panicked state, I formulated a little weird plan that would probably convince him I hadn't read his journal.

* * *

"Kurt."

"Yes, Finn?" I said, turning my head away from the TV.

"I want to read your journal."

He said it so bluntly. Like he wasn't asking me to show him my most personal belonging. Was there even a proper response to his request? It didn't even seem like a request at all, it was more like a statement. But letting someone read your journal was like letting them read your text messages or observe you when you're taking a shower. It felt strange, and awkward, and it meant to expose oneself to another person so completely.

"What?" I asked in a flat tone.

"Not the whole thing," he said quickly with his hands up. "Just some parts."

"… Why?"

"Why are you asking one word questions?" he asked in a tone that indicated panic. "You've been through a lot, Kurt. And I'd be a crappy friend if I didn't try to understand. You don't talk to me anymore, and it's my responsibility to make you feel better. But if I read it without asking you first, you'd probably kill me. So I want permission."

The effort he was making was both strange and adorable at the same time. My mood elevated a little. "Since when did you get so mature?"

"Since you showed me how," he replied and smiled. "So… Can I?"

"No."

He stared. "Why not?"

"Because I don't want you to."

"Is it because you write bad things about me or other people?"

"Don't take wild guesses, Finn. And even if I did, I don't think one person's opinion would matter."

He sighed in defeat. "Okay, this isn't working."

"Of course it's not."

"What do you plan on doing tonight?" Finn asked thoughtfully.

"Well, since we have the first day of school tomorrow," I answered, distracted by the TV. I wasn't interested in making conversation. "I plan on spending most of today making my skin flawless."

"Flawless?"

"Flawless."

"…Wanna watch a movie with me?" he asked, hurriedly.

"All the cinemas here are either too trashy, too homophobic, or too disgusting for me to visit."

"At home, I mean."

"Well… All right. Which movie?"

"Hmm," he put his finger on his lip in a very adorable way. "How about Trick 'r' Treat? I've been meaning to watch that one for a while."

"Horror?" I would have rather preferred a drama. "Sure."

Finn gave me a smile and went out of the room. I sat back and continued watching Family Guy. A few minutes later Finn called out that he was going to the get the necessary food supplies and the DVD, and left. My mind really wasn't focused on the TV anymore, but I was thinking about some more… tempting.

The movie wasn't particularly scary. But I saw it as a good excuse to sit close to Finn, with our arms touching, and me occasionally leaning harder against him, just so the back of my shoulder rubbed against his pectoral. He probably took it as my being jumpy in reaction to the movie, but that was because he didn't know I usually didn't get scared watching horror cinema. I'd been closed up for too many weeks, and school was going to start from tomorrow, so I couldn't keep myself locked inside my isolation forever. Finn was here with me, which put him within my reach. Why I wasn't taking full advantage of that, I didn't know. If it were Rachel in my place, she would be crushing his lips with hers by this point. Yet I was there calmly respective of his personal space. Well, almost. He was starting to notice the excessive contact between our bodies, but his eyes remain glued to the screen. I suppose his need to get intimate was half-hearted. Especially since Rachel was back and trying her level best to get back in his good graces. Everyone suspected she'd had some falling-out with Jesse, but we weren't really sure, and she never showed it. However, Finn making his own effort to make peace with me was sincere and so incredibly sweet that I couldn't resist. But then, why wasn't he looking at me?

I looked around the living but then turned to look at the side of his face and he seemed to be paying an unnecessary amount of attention to the screen where Anna Paquin was shedding her human skin and becoming werewolf. The scene was revolting and I was glad I had Finn's face to stare at. Wow, that's some heavy infatuation right there. Or maybe I was just horny. Either way, I nudged him with my elbow. His eyes flickered in my direction but went back to the movie. He put his hand in the bowl on his lap, picked up some chips and stuffed them in his mouth. I sighed and rolled my eyes. I wanted to force his attention on me but I didn't want to say anything. We'd been watching the entire movie in silence, and talking meant to break the sincerity of the moment in some strange way. I moved my hand slowly over his and put it over his. He instinctively tried to move it away but then kept it there, almost as a second thought. I wanted to make the gesture seem ordinary, so I tried to revert my attention back to the movie. Yet after about a minute I realized the gory contents on the screen weren't making sense to me. Old feelings were rushing through my mind because of the intimate yet non-sexual gesture. And with that came an urge to know what was going through Finn's mind.  
The movie paused and I turned my head to see Finn pointing the remote at the TV. With his free hand he popped some more chips into his mouth. He gently squeezed my hand and then turned to me.

"Do we need to talk about it?" He asked seriously.

I closed my eyes. "Yes. We do."

"Fine," he said and stopped the movie before turning off the DVD player. "Talk."

"I want to know if you like me," I said cautiously.

"... Is that even a question to ask someone?"

I wasn't sure. "Sorry."

"No, it's okay. I do, Kurt," he said firmly.

"I mean, as more than a friend," I said, looking away from him.

"You need convincing?" He said and raised my hand to his mouth. He ran the edges of his lips along the back of my hand and the warm breath he exhaled from his nose tickled my skin. I shuddered. But it was going too fast, and I pulled my hand back.

"I thought you wanted this," he said a little too seductively. That just had to be intentional.

"I... Just..." I stammered, feeling bothered under his stare and against his chocolaty baritone voice. "We need to discuss something. Tomorrow is school, Finn. And I don't want to go back with a heart that's practically bleeding love for you."

"You're exaggerating."

"No, I'm not! I can't spend another year hanging by a thread."

"You don't believe me," he said, and inched closer to me.

"Finn, please," I said, almost pleading.

"What do you want me to do?" He asked, casually. Stuffing some more chips in his mouth, he put the bowl on the side table.

"I want you to tell me how this will play out."

"So basically you want me to be either be with you or not at all?"

"Isn't that how it should be?"

"But..." He thought about it hard. "I thought we could fool around when you wanted to."

"I'm not wired to fuck around, Finn!" I said, aghast at what he was suggesting. "I'm not a toy."

"You're right. I'm sorry," he said, sincerely.

"What's going on with you?" I stared into his eyes.

"It's hard, Kurt, to choose one option," he said, looking away. "It's either you or..."

"Some girl?"

"Yeah."

"I understand," I said, getting ready to stand up. "You don't have to choose. I suppose I'll spare you the serious thinking."

He grabbed my arm as I was stood up, and pulled me back. I fell into his lap, my back against his chest, where he put both his arms around my chest. Before I could respond, his lips were against my ear.

"You don't know how awesome that was," he whispered.

I couldn't think. I thought I dropped my sense of rationalism right there. "What?"

"You said you'd let me go free. God, Kurt, I can't imagine how much courage that takes. Do you really like me so much?" He sounded like he was in awe.

I took a deep breath, and put my hand on his forearm, leaning back into his embrace. "More than you know."

"Then," he said and placed a soft kiss on the side of my neck. "There is no reason for me to not give this a shot."

"What about school?" I managed to ask after recovering from the shivers his hot breath on my skin elicited.

"Well, I can't spread it around, you know that," he answered carefully. "But I'm not gonna make it my mission to hide it. Kurt, I'm not gonna let others tell me who I can be with."

As soon as Finn went back to my neck, I heard a throat clear from the doorway. My eyes shot open to see none other than Carole standing in the doorway with her arms crossed. She looked surprised, but not really jaw-on-the-floor shocked. I hurriedly got off Finn's lap and stood up.

"You boys realize the consequences of surprising Burt like this?" She asked, glaring at Finn.

"Uh..." He looked dumbfounded.

"We will talk about this, young man," she said sternly. "But tomorrow when I'm not so tired. Just go to your room before Burt sees you two doing what you were."

"Yes, ma'am," I said, grabbed Finn's wrist, and dragged him behind me to my bedroom.

Finn threw me on my bed, climbed on top of me, and his lips were on mine before I could ask for them. I realized then that there was very little patching to be done. I had never disliked his boy. Even when I was with Sam, I always compared his personality with Finn's, and that, I guess, stemmed for my undying feelings for the guy I was kissing right then. I'd loved Finn throughout. I broke the kiss.

"You know, Finn," I said, looking up into his eyes. "Oscar Wilde said, every time one loves is the only time one has ever loved."

"What? What does that have to do with anything?"

"Never mind. I need to put on music. And lock the door. And light candles."

He rolled his eyes. "Wanna do your chores while you're at it? Stop making me wait."

I chuckled. "Just wait. I have to do this. The music is so no one can hear us, and the candles to make it feel better."

I got my laptop off standby mode and put on the desired album. Quickly locking the door, I also lighted the mahogany and lavendar scented candles.

"Any special reason for putting on Britney?"

"Her album, Blackout, turns me on. The songs are so hot."

"Weird..."

"Only for you, baby," I said, and jumped on the bed.

He grinned and put both his hands on my sides, as the catchy beat of _Gimme More _started. My lips met his and I felt him melt into it. He kissed me back with a passion I'd never felt with anyone. He seemed to grow hungry with every touch. Grabbing my hips, he thrust his crotch up and against mine. He moaned right into my mouth. He sat up, me in his lap, my legs straight on both his sides. He pressed my chest against his, and started kissing my neck. His lips went from my ear to my neck, to my collarbone, touching the skin, setting it on fire, making me squirm and moan. He took his hands off my sides and pulled my sweater over my head. It was starting to get uncomfortable, because my body felt like it needed to be free. He stripped himself of his polo shirt, and I ran my nails against his pecs. I didn't really understand my obsession with that particular part of his anatomy but they were all I could stare at as Finn unbuttoned by purple jewel-tone dress shirt and tossed it to the floor. I pushed him back on the bed.

As the song changed to the second one, _Piece of Me_, that's when the music really took over my senses. He moaned as I kissed from his neck down to the objects of my desire, his pecs. The sight of his nipples made me unbelievably hard. I ran my tongue around one, kissed it, licked it, and gently nibbled on it. Finn looked like he was being driven insane with pleasure, his hips bucking up to grind against any part of my body they could. I kissed my way down to his abdomen. After a little licking and caressing, I realized that he also responded to administrations to his belly button. I felt like I was addicted to the sweet sounds of pleasure coming out of his mouth. I felt like I couldn't stop even if I wanted to - which I didn't. His belt was easy enough to unbuckle and his pants I soon tossed to the ground. A boxer-clad Finn was lying under me, completely hot and bothered, and begging for more. How could I stop? I went further down, kissing the insides of his thighs which made him spread his legs to the sides. I could see the tent forming in his underwear, and even a spot of moisture on the white fabric. That was a lot of precum. I ran my lips over the cloth, and then with my hand gripped his erection. He let out a breathy little yell and his thrust upwards. But the teasing wasn't finished yet.

The next song on the album came up._ Radar._

I moved back up and laid a passionate kiss on his lips. I laid down on top of him, and an intense tongue war started. The salty taste of chips in his mouth wasn't entirely bad. The smell of the candles had gotten strong and the taste in his mouth, the feel of his tongue running on my lower lip, and the earthy scent of the candles, were collectively making my thought process go haywire. He put his hands on the skin of my back and rubbed it. Slowly, the took them down to my lower back, feeling my skin with his broad, firm hands. He slid those hands under the waist of my pants, and under my boxers, and squeezed my ass. I moaned. The kiss lasted a little longer before realized how hard he was. I could feel his throbbing erection through the soft silky material of my pants.

"Get back down there," he said breathlessly.

"Not the way to ask," I whispered in his ear and then nibbled on his earlobe.

"Please?" He said desperately.

I sat up on him and ground my ass in his crotch. He closed his eyes and gasped. "Not nicely!" I said strictly.

"Get back down there... You dirty slut?"

"That's better," I said, smiling at his funny effort to be commanding in bed.

_Break The Ice_ started playing, and I moved down to Finn's crotch. His hands were in my hair as soon as pulled the elastic band of the waist down a little and ran my tongue over the tip of his penis. I looked up to see his eyes shut right and mouth open. I'd teased him enough. I dragged the boxers off him, and for a moment I just stared at his erection. Observing the length, the testicles, the trimmed pubic hair, and the the precum oozing out the top. I wanted to see him cum right there and then, but I knew that this was definitely going to go beyond a blowjob. I touched him with my hand, and gently stroked. Not a sound came from Finn. I'd never done this before, and uncertainties came rushing. Would I be any good? Well, Finn was expecting "something" by the look on his face, so I'd better deliver, good or not. I slowly put my mouth around it, and used my tongue to spread a little saliva over the length. Slowly, I started moving my head up and down, keeping my lips tight around his cock, and keeping my teeth away from it. The tip hit against my hard palet and slid back to rub against my soft palate. Finn moaned then, but I felt my gag reflex coming, so I pulled back a little. I didn't take it too deep in, but sped up my movements. Finn's gasps were an oddly beautiful match with Britney's own on the song, and I felt like it couldn't get any better.

"Stop..." I heard Finn gasp out over the music. "I'll cum if you don't."

Well, we couldn't have that now, could we? So I stopped. Finn pulled me back up and thrust his lips against mine. That was when the track changed to _Heaven On Earth_. He flipped me over. His tall, broad frame over mine brought back images from the last time we were in this position. I took a deep breath to inhale the fragrances in the room, and Spears singing about lips, touches and hands had me thinking naughty things in explicit detail. And the song so comfortably related to everything I felt for Finn. He had odd expression on his face, and I gathered he was thinking about The Mailman. I'd heard that story when it was a running joke around The Club. I smiled. He sat between my legs, and I stared at his hard cock, still glistening with my saliva. I bit my lip. He got me out of my pants and boxers with a strange expertise and grabbed my member. He started stroking it with a firm grip and I instinctively tightened the muscles of my legs. I wanted to bring them together but Finn was sitting between them. No lubrication, nothing, just Finn's strong, rough hand stroking me to an insane orgasm. He slowed down after a moment, and I calmed down a little. I needed more body contact. I rubbed my thighs against his, and reached my hands up, placing them on his chest. He leaned over and kissed me while I ran my hands along his back and squeezed his buttocks, just as he'd done mine. He climbed off me and went to the side of the bed, where out of his nightstand he took out a condom and a jar of Vaseline. Oh, God, was this really happening? A part of me really questioned why Finn had such a supply of condoms, but I didn't really care about that right then.

The song _Get Naked_ came on and it was strangely appropriate. Britney had proven to be a most amazing partner through the whole thing. When he came back to his position between my legs, he had on the condom and it was covered in the slippery substance.

"How do you wanna go?" He asked softly.

"Any position. Just no teasing. No fingers. Go right ahead," I said, then pulled him down by his neck and whispered in his ear, "Fuck me."

He shuddered. "I wanna look at you."

"Okay," I said and put one leg over his shoulder.

He kissed the side of my calf and ran his hand along my thigh. From the table I picked up the jar and handed it to him. He covered his finger in Vaseline and, not taking his eyes off mine, took his finger down to my entrance. He applied it there, and popped about an inch of his finger inside. It felt great and I moaned in anticipation. He licked his lips, but looked in my eyes uncertainly. I nodded as affirmation, and he took the hint. Gently, he started pushing inside of me. He closed his eyes, and I closed mine, trying to focus entirely on the feeling. I thought I'd forgotten all about the pain from last time but as soon as Finn was an inch or two inside, I got a good reminder of how it felt. Should've let him loosen me up, I thought, but I couldn't wait any longer. Finn slowed down when he heard me gasp, and I was thankful he was paying enough attention. He kept almost still for about a minute before he thought okay to move forward. I felt like I couldn't form words, and the only thing coming out of my mouth was a gasp, a moan, or his first name. The pain started giving way to a pleasure when he pulled back a little and moved forward again. It didn't hurt as much as I was expecting anyway, and soon as I got used to the motion, Finn had made a slow and gentle rhythm with my body.

It felt like he was a part of me. A physical connection that even joined souls together. I felt like I didn't end where he began, and the harmony of his thrusts with mine enforced that feeling. With my inexperience, I thought we wouldn't be able to make a continuous rhythm but then, I thought, it seemed like it was more about a mental connection. I had had a chance to explore Finn's body, and maybe that established some link between us. Whatever it was, it felt wonderful. Songs changed from one to the next, and we kept doing our deed. It felt like a ritual. I opened my eyes to see Finn with his mouth open, moaning as if periodically. Both my legs over his shoulders, he occasionally turned his head to the side to kiss them. He stopped for a second to lean in and kiss my lips, before he went back to his motion. Things were speeding up involuntarily, though. As much as I wanted to prolong this to infinity, it seemed like our bodies wanted to end this. I moved my hand to my cock, down which was running an unbelievable amount of precum. I started stroking it, wanting desperately to reach the edge of this hill we were on. Finn sped up even more, occasionally hitting the right spot, making me form incoherent words.

"God, Kurt," he whispered. "Touch youself. So hot."

"You," I said, before moaning. "Touch me."

He obliged, roughly grabbing my hard dick, and stroking it like crazy. With Finn working on both my primary pleasure organs, I couldn't think of any use for my hands and yet I wanted to use them. I rubbed my nipple with one hand while grazing the nails of my other hand over Finn's chest and abdomen. A feral move, as if I wanted him to go rougher on me. Every thrust started almost outside of me and ended at that spot that made me see white. With Finn's hand on my member, within a minute I was letting out some very loud noises.

"Finn..." I moaned. "Yeah... !"

I came with a yell, and a bucking of my hips. I ejaculated shots upon shots of cum, some of which landed on the pillow, my chest, and stomach. Finn didn't let up on stroking me though. He pulled out of me, threw the condom off in a frenzy and started stroking himself harder and faster than I thought comfortable, and yet within seconds he shot enough cum to impregnate a horse, all over me. Most of it landed on my chest. The little that landed on my lips I licked feeling, feeling a little too dirty, but in a sexy way. I twitched when he touched the head of my cock, which getting more and more sensitive. A few seconds later he let go of both our members, and fell on the bed beside me.

A few seconds later, when I could hear again, I heard that _Perfect Lover_ was playing. Finn caught his breath a minute later.

"Wow," he said. I thought he was talking about the sex but he added, "You're a mess. Wanna take a shower?"

"Yeah, but in a little," I answered. He gave me a long, smooth kiss, and put his head right beside mine. "I can't believe we did it to almost a whole album."

Right then, lying in the afterglow of amazing sex, covered in cum, trying to muster up the energy to get up, listening to Britney sing _Why Should I Be Sad_, I realized that that all of my patience had born fruit. Strange time to think about it, but I understood that the old saying was true, good things do come to those who wait. There were no love you's exchange, and not much romantic talk at all. We had done something that felt like an obligation, but it had been incredible. I was content. I could live without him saying those three words to me, for now.

Then I got up to have some fun in the shower.

* * *

**So, about two months later, finally finished :] Lemme know what you thought. ****I wanna thank everyone who's been reading and reviewing since I started this.  
**** Thanks for reading! Reviews are much appreciated.**


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